


What Is This Feeling?

by WeBuiltThePyramids



Series: Afterward [2]
Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Quintis - Freeform, Waige - Freeform, and for those of you that love tad you get lil baby tad, basically picks up right where NOUSF left off, definitely some stuff in the smutty department though, fly, maybe a little smut later but not sure yet, more fly than quintis or waige but all are there, post nicole's official unofficial season five, pre a conflict of parallels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-08-22 01:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 33,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16588034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeBuiltThePyramids/pseuds/WeBuiltThePyramids
Summary: The team is back together and while much is back to how it was before, other things are forever changed. Quintis begins their journey into parenthood, Walter and Paige figure out their new dynamic, and Florence and Sylvester figure out how to build a relationship with an admittedly rocky start. (Post "Nicole's Official Unofficial Season Five", pre "A Conflict of Parallels.")





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you have read "Nicole's Official Unofficial Season Five" and "A Conflict of Parallels" this fic takes place in between them, the day after NOUSF ends. If you haven't, well, I would recommend you read NOUSF before reading this one, but if you don't want to (making me sad but WHATEVER) just know the gist is a lot of angst, self – reflection, and drama happened and now the team is back together. Can't tell you how long this one will be chapter wise or word wise, but likely shorter than both of the other two. It may or may not end up having smut, but there will definitely be stuff in that department at least.
> 
> Like NOUSF, this first chapter will be the shortest, and most others will have multiple parts.

When Florence rolled over and grabbed her phone, squinting at the display, she was surprised to find out it was only nine.

The team – she felt a rush of adrenaline at the meaning that word once again had – arrived back in Los Angeles early in the morning, and by the time she got back into her lab and passed out in the loft it was well after four in the morning. She thought she would have slept longer than this, especially considering…

Everything.

Scorpion 2.0 and Centipede Partners were no more, having reverted back to their previous arrangement of one team, one Scorpion. Walter and Paige, who Florence felt personally responsible for destroying, were back together. Happy and Toby were going to adopt a little boy that Scorpion 2.0 had saved, the one high point in a horrible day the chemist otherwise wished she could forget entirely.

And then there was Sylvester. Sylvester, who didn't hate her, who didn't resent her, who, incredibly, said he actually was still  _in love with her_  after everything. That part, she almost didn't quite believe, not in the same way she believed Walter and Paige could throw that word out again almost immediately. She and Sylvester had never been together. She hadn't even really been aware that she liked him back before.

Before.

She supposed their entire lives would now be measured by Before and After. The part in between, they all just wanted to put behind them.

She had texts from Sylvester. She felt her heart do a skipping thing in her chest.

The first one said  _good morning_  – so he was up early, too –  _although it's almost afternoon now, haha. I just wanted to wish you a good morning. Is that weird?_  The second one read  _I'm sure you're still sleeping. Just wanted to let you know I talked to Cabe and we're all going back to work day after tomorrow, so if you wanted to hang out tomorrow, there'll be time. Ttyl._

Something from his first text registered late.  _It's almost afternoon now._  It wasn't almost afternoon, it was only nine now, so he had sent it before…she raised her eyebrows when she realized the text had been sent at 11:37. So that meant…

She got out of bed and peeked under the blinds covering her window. Darkness. It wasn't nine in the morning. It was nine at night.

_I slept all day._

She never slept that long, but then, she'd spent the past month or so barely sleeping at all. So her initial assumption was right – she slept a  _long_  time.

It seemed fitting, in a way. She'd gone from feeling strung out emotionally to feeling hopeful. It was nice to let her body recover at the same time.

She composed a reply to Sylvester's messages.

_Hey. Yes, I've been asleep. Can't remember the last time sleeping went so well. I would love to hang out tomorrow. Lunch?_

The response was almost immediate.  _Kovelsky's?_ An additional text followed.  _That's not very romantic, I guess. Although – ALTHOUGH! Happy and Toby did get married there._

Florence could feel his enthusiasm through the text. It gave her a feeling. She wasn't entirely sure what the word for it was. What she  _was_  pretty sure of was that she liked it.

_Sounds good to me. Hash out details in the morning?_

His response took a little longer this time. Florence wondered if he was purposefully not trying to text back too fast.

She wondered if adults worried about those types of things or if her dating mentality was that of a high schooler due to her lack of experience. If so, surely Sylvester wasn't overthinking in the same way. He might be five years younger than her, but he'd been in a relationship before. He'd been  _married_  before. He knew so much more about this than her. Hell, even being in a relationship now, Florence was still the person who got into one  _after Walter O'Brien._  She was, quite likely, screwed.

Before she could really delve into the introspection, Sylvester texted back.

_Sounds good to me._

They'd officially made a date. Florence put the phone down and strode around her lab, suddenly feeling another rush of energy and with it a strong need to move. She put her hands up and ran them through her hair.

"Stop acting like a giddy sixth grader," she said out loud. She knew obeying her demand would be easier said than done. She'd been wallowing in angst and confusion for months, and now she suddenly found herself in a place she - also suddenly - thought was where she was meant to be all along.

Well. If she believed in that 'meant to be' stuff. Jury was still out on that.

Florence shook her head, trying to settle all the thoughts rushing through it. Then she was hurrying back to her phone, typing out a response to Sylvester and hitting send before she could second guess herself.

_Can't wait._


	2. Chapter 2

Soft.

That was the only way Walter could think to describe the scene he was in. He wasn't even sure if it made sense. Soft, as an adjective,  _meant easy to mold, cut, compress, or fold; not hard or firm to the touch. Having a pleasing quality, involving a subtle effect or contrast_.

That didn't make sense as an application to the light coming through the window, glinting harshly off of the pan on the counter. There wasn't, logically, anything pleasing about the small line of grime in the corners pf the countertops, a sign that no one had felt up to cleaning thoroughly. And he still had a slight headache from his ordeal less than two days before, eleven time zones away. To the naïve eye, or even perhaps to the knowing one,  _soft_  was not a word Walter had in the part of his vocabulary that described settings. And yet everything about this particular morning seemed soft.

Paige was studying her reflection in the refrigerator. "I knew it," she said, running a finger above her eyebrow. "I knew those days of not showering was going to make my face break out."

"Paige," he said, crossing the room and placing a hand gently on her back.

She straightened up, turning toward him. "You've never seen me with acne."

"Yes, I have."

"Not like  _this._ "

He genuinely had no idea why she was so upset. He wasn't blind, he could see the small spots she was stressed about, but as far as skin conditions were concerned, her outbreak was incredibly mild.

"Well," she added with a sigh, "now that I have a reason to be diligent about my pills again, I suppose I can also go back to not worrying about this."

Walter cupped her face and lowered his lips to hers. "You are," he said, kissing her again, "the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He moved his lips to her forehead, resting them there. She stepped closer and he pulled her in. "Oh, love."

Paige made a little sound in her throat. "God, when I'm in your arms I can so easily just forget we were ever apart."

He tightened his arms and bit his lower lip. "I suppose I'm the opposite. When I'm holding you I remember all the weeks my arms were empty."

"Aw." She was warm and solid and real against his chest. "I love that we can just slip back into this like none of it ever happened."

Walter released her and took a step back, studying her curiously.

"Walter?"

She was confused. But so was he. " _Can_  we just slip back into things like this never happened?"

She shrugged, then frowned, as if regretting her expression immediately. "I mean…"

"All those things we said we had to work on…those things wouldn't exist in the front of our minds  _as_  things to improve if we hadn't been apart. And is it right to just brush those issues aside and go back to ignoring all the small problems until they get backed up like that drain in the lake?"

"No…"

"This isn't going to work again if we forget about our breakup. I would argue remembering is essential to us staying together." He realized he was breathing harder than just thirty seconds before. He recognized he was feeling irritable. He was losing a sudden battle with anxiety over the idea of losing her again. "Paige, we have to remember."

"Walter, Walter," she said, stepping closer and grabbing both his hands. "Breathe. It's okay. It's  _okay_."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm being too literal again. Too analytical. I'm already messing this up."

"No." She shook her head, giving him that smile that was a combination of affection and amusement. "No, you're not. You're right. You just didn't understand what I was saying."

"Okay." He drew in a deep breath and let it out, slowly. "What were you saying?"

"That I love you. And that we can go back to that point. We don't have to start out like a new couple. We don't have to do first dates and getting to know one another and awkward nose bumping when we kiss. We were broken up. But now that we're back together, we're picking up, well, almost at least, where we left off." She smiled at him. "And I love that, Walter. I really do."

"Oh, yeah, okay." He nodded, giving her a nervous smile that he knew always looked more like a grin. "Yeah, I love that, too." He cleared his throat. "Although to be fair, we did start our relationship already in love with each other, and I don't recall any awkward nose bumping, and…" he trailed off when he saw her cock an eyebrow, relieved when he saw the smirk on her face that told him she wasn't upset. "I missed you, Pay."

She gave a little giggle. "I can't even begin to express how happy I am right now."

"You don't need to worry about that," he said. "I strongly suspect we're feeling the exact same way."

* * *

Florence's nerves evaporated into pure excitement as she and Sylvester chatted in between devouring the sandwiches and cole slaw they'd both ordered. Her favorite thing about him was how easy he was to talk to, and now she got to talk to him like this whenever she wanted, and she could reach across the table and briefly cover his hand if she wanted, and when he told a joke and she laughed she didn't have to go home and spend hours wondering why she'd laughed so, so hard at something that honestly wasn't  _that_  hilarious.

Although she did have to spend a moment, while chewing a mouthful of cole slaw, wondering how the heck she'd managed to convince herself she had feelings for Walter after that night of overanalyzing her response to Sylvester using a chemistry term as the punchline for a corny joke.

"You're about to lose your tomato," Sylvester said, bringing her back to the present.

She adjusted her sandwich to be more level, pushing what was left of the tomato more securely between the bread and the turkey. "Whoops."

"They really put a lot of food into these things," Sylvester said. "I always wondered if that was why Walter initially brought us here. Figured if we weren't going to remember to eat, might as well get a lot of nutrition packed into what we do consume."

"Efficient. Sounds like him."

"Sure does." He dabbed at the corner of his mouth. "So."

She frowned. "So?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking about this."

"You got really serious really fast."

"Sorry." He cleared his throat. "I was thinking on the way over here that maybe we could try to get to know each other a little better. Like we've talked a lot, but like…" He shrugged. "Not about stuff that couples talk about, I guess. But since we already know the basics, this can't be like a classic first date scenario."

"What if we each shared something that we think the other should know? Like, in terms of a relationship, something we wouldn't have necessarily told the other about before. When we were friends."

He raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. "Wow. That's a good one. Okay, do you want to go first, or should I?"

"Uh…how about you?" Florence realized she actually didn't have an idea of what to say on hand.

"Sure, sure." He thought a moment. "I assume you know I was married."

She nodded. "Yes. You told me."

"Right." He licked his lips. "She was my first girlfriend. She was every first I've had so far. So it's kinda unnerving moving forward, to have had your only relationship lead to marriage. I'm a math guy. And right now I have a one hundred percent success rate. And I know the odds of maintaining that are…well, very low. And that scares me. Most people have far less successful percentages which then actually ups their chances that each new relationship is going to last."

"Your logic seems odd at first glance, but I follow."

"Yeah, so that's basically it. What's yours?"

"Uh…" she hesitated. She had one in mind now, but actually bringing it up was a  _task_. Because it was a big deal. Because it shouldn't be. "So, virginity is a social construct created to control women and shame them for sexual activity because realistically you are no different as a person if you haven't had sex just like you're no different whether or not you've had your hair dyed, or…or sushi." She paused for breath and feared that meant she'd been rambling. "But that first one, I haven't. Done that. I mean." She felt her face flush. "That was way too personal for a first date, wasn't it?"

He shook his head. "No. No. I know that's a big deal for some people. But you know I haven't either, so it's not like I would be weird about it."

Florence blinked in surprise. "You haven't?"

Sylvester cocked his head slowly. "So…you've missed all the virgin jokes that Toby makes?"

Florence gave a shrug, feeling awkward. "I assumed he was being an asshole."

"I mean, he  _was_ , but still."

"Oh." She cocked her head in the opposite direction. She had questions, but she was fairly sure they weren't appropriate to ask."

"Megan was sick," he said, which she knew, but then she realized he was answering one of those questions in her head. "It wasn't on either of our minds at the time, but she probably wouldn't have been able to."

"So we both…" she ran her finger around the top of her glass. "That makes me feel better. Like, less…inadequate?" She'd confessed to him in Europe that Ralph talking him up at ChemCon had made her feel, subconsciously, like she wasn't good enough. This alleviated that fear at least a little bit.

"Me too. I guess."

"I mean, I'm not…" Florence started.

"No, I know."

"Because it's not like we would, you know,  _today_ …"

"Of course not."

"I was – "

"Just saying," they said together.

Sylvester grinned. "Well. We got the awkward conversation out of the way."

"Well," she said, "we got my suggestion completed. Now what do you think we should share?"

He grew serious as he thought. "Hmm. How about…" he paused, setting his jaw. "How about we share something that worries us? Nip stuff in the bud, if we have any concerns, you know."

Florence nodded. "I like that." She cocked her head. "You clearly have something in mind."

He sighed, looking down at his hands.

"Is it…is it the thing we agreed on? About your feelings, and mine?" They'd talked, back in Europe, about how they knew they were going into this relationship in completely different places. He loved her. She was just discovering any sort of romantic feeling for him.

"No." He bit the inside of his cheek. "But it does have to do with your feelings."

She felt a pit settle in her stomach. "You're worried my feelings for Walter will come back."

He let out a quick but deep sigh that told her she was right. "It's just in the back of my mind."

She hated to see how bothered he was. "Sylvester…" she said, wanting to choose her words carefully but suddenly finding herself lacking an arsenal to choose from, "I…I don't know what to say to make you feel better about that."

"You don't have to say anything," he said. "You told me you were projecting onto him because he wasn't available. It makes sense. It's just that now he isn't available again. So…" he shook his head. "I just want you – I just  _need_  you to be honest with me. If you feel them coming back…"

"I will tell you," she said, "but they won't." She reached across the table and put her hand on his. "Sly. I know it must be weird dating someone who was confessing her feelings for someone else just a couple months ago, but you told me about Walter and Paige way back when, remember? How she was dating someone else just two months before they got together?"

"That was different," Sylvester said. "We all knew they were in love and her other relationship was just…it was just weird." He shook his head.

"I could argue the past few months have been a lot of  _just weird_ , too." She smiled. "Trust me. I've carried so much guilt. I wouldn't be here right now if I didn't like you like that."

"I know. And I know we just had this conversation the other day. I'm sorry for being redundant. So what's your concern?"

She didn't like how he brushed off his own worries. But she wasn't sure it was the time to keep pushing. "Well…" Actually, maybe it was exactly the time to keep focusing on his thing. Then she wouldn't have to share hers. "So back to what you were saying…"

"Nice try, Tipton."

"Dammit." She smirked at him, then grew serious again. "Okay. Here goes." She wrung her hands. "Your wife was your only relationship."

He nodded. "And I understand if that's weird for you."

"Sly, I'm older than you and the extent of my relationship experience was lip locking a couple people in college in situations I highly regretted almost immediately." She gave a dry laugh. My fear is that I won't measure up." She was surprised the words rushed from her lips so quickly and easily. "It seemed the relationship specific part of your lives was so beautiful and perfect – not the MS, obviously, but the relationship part. You'd mentioned the living with no regrets, and the joy you found in each other." She shook her head. "I don't know how to measure up to that. Or even come close." Pausing, Florence picked at her napkin. "I don't want to be the disappointing follow up to the love of your life."

"Megan is the love of my life," Sylvester said. "But that doesn't mean being with you is going to be disappointing. For years after her, I didn't think I could fall for someone again. I didn't think I wanted to. Then you showed up and you…you got all of my attention without even trying." He shook his head, smiling. "Watching Happy and Toby together, and Walter and Paige together, it made me believe there was only one person for everyone. But you've made me consider the possibility that maybe some people have their one, and other people have more than one chance at that feeling. That something extra feeling. The  _this is different from the other times_  feeling. I don't know if that makes any little bit of sense to you, but it does to me."

"I don't know what," Florence said after a long pause, "but I felt something when you said that."

"Yeah? Good?"

"Yeah, I think so."

He smiled. "Good. Can I say something?"

"Of course."

"The fact that that's your fear makes me feel better about mine. Like, I'm less worried now. And I feel bad – selfish even – for saying that. But…"

"But if I want to be good enough, my subconscious isn't telling me I should be somewhere else." She nodded. "You forget I have a brain that works that way, too. I would feel the exact same way if I was you. And you know what? I kinda do." She smiled. "Because your fear makes me feel better about mine. A little. I'm still worried you'll become disillusioned with me and I doubt that will fully fade any time soon.  _However_ , if you were so scared to feel a way again and I've made you feel that way, maybe I won't be a disappointment." She frowned. "Could you follow that? I feel like I'm talking in circles."

"I felt like  _I_  was."

"I followed you, though."

"Same here," he assured her.

"Good."

They smiled at each other. Sylvester reached across the table and took her hand. "It's only a start," he said, "but I  _think_  we're off to a good one."


	3. Chapter 3

Tad Lascher was barely five months old, but Scorpion's newly reappointed mechanic was sure he knew flipping over onto his back was precisely what they did not want him to do, and that that was precisely why he was doing it.

"We missed the immobility days," Happy said. "When we could just put him down and he would stay exactly where we left him."

"He will be crawling before we know it!" Toby said, placing a hand on her back. They were both kneeling on the floor, the baby on the blanket in front of them making short order work of tummy time.

They had been a little bit presumptuous when they told the team back in Europe that they were getting the process of finalizing his adoption expedited. With the court cases surrounding the reason they even knew about him, his current guardian in no shape to take part in the process, and a bunch of other red tape, it might be a year before he was truly, finally theirs. Officially, anyway. Happy had known he was theirs the first moment they'd laid eyes on him.

In person, anyway. The first time she saw him was in the news clip of Florence passing him off to Walter, and then Cabe, when she removed him from the foster home that was burning to the ground. At that point, just hours removed from Centipede's own disaster of a case, she'd been too numb to think ahead. But man oh man, was it love at first sight when she and Toby had visited Tad in the hospital, neither having been involved in his rescue but both feeling a need to make sure he was okay.

 _You were his parents before you knew you were his parents,_  Paige had said later, when Happy'd confessed as much to her.

They couldn't take him home yet. He'd been restrained in the house by the perpetrator of that tragedy, and he needed physical therapy and monitoring so as to give a proper account of the toll the events took on him in the perpetrator's trial. It was all very complicated. Happy was sure Sylvester understood it more than her.

"Aaaaaaa!" Tad said, getting progressively higher in pitch. He grabbed his feet, looking fascinated.

"Weirdo," Happy said affectionately.

"Just like me, whaddya know," Toby joked.

Happy smiled at him. "Oh goodie, I get two of you."

"You're gonna have to be a lot less smiley if you want to be convincing in your horror," he told her, grinning back at her and leaning over to kiss her forehead. "You know what does make me sad? That he's too big to curl up in my hat. I've always thought that would be a cute as hell newborn photo."

"Yeah, I heard you telling Paige about that last night," Happy said. It had been after their first case back as a single team, one that turned out fairly uneventful both in content of the case itself and in their working together. That part had gone especially smoothly. She was sure that wouldn't last forever. They'd be at each other's throats again. But the ease of their first case back was either from the joy of being back together, the conscious effort they were all putting out, or both. It was a good sign for their future.

"Did you hear what she told me in that same conversation?" Toby asked.

Happy shook her head.

"Walter suggested they double date with Florence and Sylvester."

Happy's eyebrows shot up. "Is she taking that as a red flag?"

"No. She said it wouldn't be her first choice of a date, but she also knows that a lot of relationships within the four of them still have a lot of work so she gets why they should probably do it. They should be arriving at the restaurant about now, actually."

"Damn," Happy said. "And you waited until now to tell me? This is the kind of potential issue I like to be in the know about."

"Happy Quinn – Curtis," Toby said, "we only get to see Tad for a few hours. Did you really want to spend it talking about them?"

"Fair enough." She moved Tad back onto his belly. He immediately flipped back over.

* * *

"Booths are a little small," Paige commented to Walter as they squeezed in across from Florence and Sylvester. "Good thing I kinda like you."

"Should we have invited Happy and Toby?" Paige asked, glancing at Walter and then back to the other couple. "I feel weird excluding them."

"That wouldn't make it a double date," Florence said. "Then it would just be all of us hanging out without Cabe."

"Plus, the word double does mean two, so even if it didn't turn out to be all of us sans one person, it's still not a double date with any more or less than two couples."

Paige stared at him for several long, uncomfortable seconds. "I know that, Walter."

He looked alarmed. "Oh, no no no, I didn't mean to…I wasn't being…" he frowned. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said, still angled toward him.

"Unnecessary clarification. I know. I recognize it."

Paige leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I know you're trying."

"I shouldn't…" he glanced over at Florence and Sylvester, then turned back to Paige and lowered his voice. "I shouldn't be messing up this quickly."

"You are  _fine_."

Sylvester coughed. "Anyway," he said, "I told the waitress to bring us all waters and then Walter's fish appetizer."

"Sylvester," Walter said, seemingly annoyed but with a glint in his eye that suggested otherwise, "you're going to let this woman next to me know I eat fermented fish on our third date?"

Florence leaned over, her shoulder pressing against Sylvester's arm. "I'm confused."

"It seems they're pretending that they don't know each other that well."

"Why?"

"It's just humor," Paige said. "Like making fun of the fact that this is only our third date since we got back together but we are way past third date content in our history."

"Interesting. You have been on two other dates since you've been back?"

"If you consider watching a movie at the garage a date," Paige said. "Which I do," she clarified quickly, glancing at Walter. "He got takeout from a place we used to go to a lot, gave me a back massage, it was nice."

Walter looked extremely proud of himself.

"So you're saying dates don't have to be extravagant if there is meaning attached to them?" Florence said.

Paige nodded. "And as long as they're the type of thing you're doing with your partner because you want to do them with him or her specifically, not just because they're your default."

Sylvester felt Florence tense up beside him, and he understood why when he noticed Walter had an uncomfortable look on his face.

Paige noticed, and her eyes widened. "I didn't mean…I mean…" she sighed. "Your lecture outing applies. But that wasn't meant to be a dig."

"She was like my sixth choice for who to take anyway," Walter said.

"And I was in a weird head space," Florence added quickly. "Zero of ten would go again."

Sylvester noticed Paige eyeing the two of them, but couldn't comment on it because the waitress came back with the drinks and appetizers. Once their orders were placed – Walter studied the menu for a solid five extra minutes before ordering what he always did – Sylvester attempted to change the subject. "So…Patty tells me I should start working on my reelection campaign, but that's not for another almost three years. I believe in action over words, mostly, and I feel my accomplishments so far speak for themselves. I was wondering what you thought, Paige."

"I think it's never too early to think about reelection," Paige said, "if that's what you want to do. But you can't let it take over your life, because then you'll be neglecting your duties. You've worked very hard to keep the promises you made, and I think if you start seriously campaigning a few months after an opponent that isn't necessarily a disadvantage as the incumbent, since your current success will be a campaign in and of itself. But I think you definitely should start thinking about it just so you aren't overwhelmed with all that prep work once the time does come."

"And in the meantime, you and I will keep kicking butt on our projects, right babe?" Florence asked, bumping her shoulder against him.

 _Babe_? He looked at her with a confused expression.

"Kicking butt together." Walter lifted his glass of water in the air as if to toast before bringing it to his lips. He set the glass back down exactly on the water ring. "A sign of a beautiful relationship." He put his arm around Paige. "Isn't that right, my sweet?"

Sylvester couldn't tell if Paige's expression was more amused or confused, but it was definitely a little bit of both. And as the late afternoon turned to evening, he could see her expression changing over to more on the confused side as Walter and Florence continued to make affirmatory comments about their relationships. It was when Florence commented on Sylvester's "incredible fork skills," that Paige cleared her throat, dabbed at her mouth with her napkin, and then looked at Sylvester. "I'm going to go to the bathroom. Join me? For a sidebar?"

He frowned. "Me?"

"Yes."

"I'm a…a guy."

"There's nothing gendered about a sidebar."

"No, but there is something gendered about the restrooms here."

Florence snapped her fingers. "A gender neutral bathroom. That can be our next project. Get them in all the major buildings in the area. Much more inclusive, and as a bonus, takes care of this sidebar problem."

"Sly, just…just follow me." Paige made a shooing motion at Walter, and he slid out of the booth to let her by. Sylvester glanced at Walter, then at Florence, and then eased out of the booth with a shrug.

Paige turned around in front of the artificial flower display in front of the bathrooms. "You know what they're doing, right?"

Sylvester felt a slight pang of annoyance. There was a time, and not too long ago, when he believed Walter and Florence had been sneaking around, intentionally hurting him and Paige without a care in the world. Just because they were both acting weird now didn't mean anything was going on. Despite his niggling fear, he believed Florence when she had told him earlier in the week that she was confident her feelings for Walter were gone for good. "N – no," he said cautiously. "What do you think they're doing?"

"Trying to prove themselves."

"Prove…what about themselves?" He asked, now thoroughly confused. "I'm a tad bit lost."

"Whose idea was it that we double date?" she asked. "Did you bring it up to Florence, or the other way around?"

"She mentioned it."

"Walter mentioned it to me, too."

"O – kay?"

"They wanted this double date so they could be affectionate and complimentary to us in front of the other couple to try and prove to us that there's nothing between them."

"But there  _isn't_."

Paige's expression told Sylvester two things – that he still didn't get what she was saying, and that she'd just figured that first thing out. "I know that, Sly. I'm saying they want to make sure we know that, and they're trying too hard to make it not awkward, so that makes it awkward."

"That makes sense." Now that he thought about it that way, Florence's comments throughout the night made sense, too. "So this isn't about you potentially being a little jealous?"

She was quiet a moment. "Do I love that they will always have things in common that Walter and I won't have? Not really. But like he and I talked about when we got back together, he also has some of those things in common with you, and Happy and Toby and Ralph. But I wouldn't have suggested we leave them alone across from each other at that booth if I was really, truly worried."

Sylvester smiled. "I'm younger than you. So I feel it's weird to say I'm proud of you, but…" he gave a small shrug. "I am."

She smiled. "You're a good friend, Sly."

She was, too. He was still having a hard time shaking off the events of Centipede's case in Arizona, but she – and Happy and Toby too – had gone above and beyond to help him recover from that. He wasn't sure if he had ever thanked her properly for it, and he felt it would be weird timing to bring it up now. But he was grateful. So, so grateful. "Right back at you."

Her smile morphed into a grin. "Want to go back and tell them we see through their game and they should just relax?"

* * *

_Just relax._

That was easier said than done, but Florence felt the double date became immensely more successful once Paige – and Sylvester – had assured her and Walter that they trusted them and they didn't need to act over the top, they both knew the two of them didn't have any clandestine motives.

Of course, Florence thought her and Walter had been acting very convincingly. She would have to review the night later to try and figure out exactly what had tipped them off.

"Well, this is me," she said, gesturing to the door to her lab. She had parked a little way up the street, and although the bus stop was in the other direction, Sylvester had insisted on walking her to her door. Walter and Paige were not with them. They were spending a night in a hotel downtown while Ralph – although he continually pointed out he was a teenager and could stay home alone – stayed with Cabe and Allie. "Third date, you know," Paige had said with a wink, as if any of them were under any illusion that she and Walter hadn't done anything already since getting home.

Not that he and Florence would be doing any third date related activities tonight. They hadn't talked about it since their first lunch, but he certainly wasn't ready and he doubted she was, either.

At Florence showing him her door, Sylvester gave an amused smile. "Are we trying the pretending thing Walter and Paige were doing?"

"I mean, this is our  _actual_  third date ever."

"But I have known where you live for a lot longer than that."

"Fair. Plus," she admitted, "I was trying the thing they were doing."

"Nice," Sylvester said, nodding his head in approval. "Did you have fun tonight? I did, at least once we got the air cleared a bit. But I hope you did, too."

"I did," she said. I'm starting to get a glimpse of what life could be like when the day comes again that I can really, truly be friends with both of them without it feeling weird or feeling like it has to be weird. I think Paige and I have a longer way to go, than me and Walter do, but I have…hope, you know?"

He smiled. "I've hung on hope many times."

She bit her lip, feeling a knot of anxiety in her stomach. "I really missed spending time with you this past summer, fall ish time. I didn't realize how much until I saw you again. And that makes me extra happy that it seems things are okay with me and Walter and me and Paige, because…" she shrugged, biting her lip. "For a long time I thought the only way for things to be okay again with everyone would be to leave." She'd been avoiding his eyes, but now she looked up to them. "It may still be a pipe dream to think I'll ever really belong here. But it's nice to not feel driven out."

He stepped closer, taking both of her hands and rubbing her skin gently with his thumbs. "You do belong here. When I showed up, when Happy and Toby and Paige and Cabe all did, there were moments of that doubt. But all of them have made Scorpion better. They've made the team better and the team has made them better. That's what Scorpion does. And you're a part of that now."

Florence felt her body grow warm. She took a tiny step closer to Sylvester. She liked the feeling of his hands in hers. "I want to kiss you," she said, "but I'm too short. So you're going to have to kiss me."

He did. It was only their second time, and the first since returning to the States, but she liked that feeling too. Even more, this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Fly heavy chapter (I mean, this fic is Fly heavy, so…) where I try to delve into more of who Florence is as a person and how much she's trying to figure out. I also feel like her reaction to Ralph telling her in S4 how good at everything Sylvester is ("oh yeah well I'm just sort of only good at chemistry") is a big sign of her feeling inadequate to him, which could be a fairly major issue with them in a relationship, at least to start. I'm also trying to make them feel like the beginning of the Fly that you read about in A Conflict of Parallels but without the years of romantic history they had at the start of that one.
> 
> Writing is quite the challenge, to say the least. xD

Two cases down post reunion, hopefully a lifetime of them to go.

Happy and Toby had been tired afterward and wanted to go right home – and after enduring some good natured ribbing from Paige about how it was probably good they're not adopting a newborn – they'd headed out with a wave. Paige needed to get home to Ralph, so it was without question that the team dinner idea they'd thrown out earlier that day was going to be postponed until the following evening. So Florence invited Sylvester over to her place to eat. Afterward, they sat on the couch, watching some old game show from the fifties. At some point he had leaned over to kiss her, gently, almost politely, and when he'd smiled at her afterward, she'd realized she wanted to kiss him again.

So she did. Then they kissed again, and again, and then hands moved and bodies shifted and tongues got involved and now it was a solid five minutes later and she was twisted on the couch, hips angled, knees resting between Sylvester's as he held her close to him while their lips parted only for breath. She had a hand on the back of his neck and the other resting on his cheek, marveling at what a good kisser he was.

But of course he was.

He had been married.

He had kissed his wife many, many times.

She pulled back, and he smiled affectionately at her, not appearing confused nor alarmed that she'd broken that part of their intimacy. But appearances could be deceiving. Was he wondering why she'd stopped kissing him? They were alone, they were at her place, it was getting dark outside…was he thinking, expecting, hoping this would go further?

After all, he had been married.

Her anxiety rarely manifested itself as dizziness, and she knew some of what she was feeling had to have been from exhilaration, but combined with the nervousness in her stomach, she knew the anxiety was part of it.

"Is something wrong?" Sylvester asked, now showing some of that confusion.

"Can we…can we talk?"

"…yes…" He let go of her, giving her room to settle back on a separate couch cushion and face him. "Did I do something?"

"No. I've just been doing a lot of thinking, and, I mean…" she wasn't sure what to say other than to come right out with it. "This feels odd."

"What does? Us?"

"Yes. No. I mean…" she shrugged. "I know when you overheard me talking to Paige earlier this year, I sounded like I knew exactly what I needed. Then I thought I had feelings for someone who wasn't any of those things. That made me doubt what I had been so sure of. Then I worked through that, and that was hard, but when I cleared out all the other stuff, you were who was left. And you  _are_  the embodiment of what I need in someone. But at the same time…" she shrugged again. "I haven't dated anyone else. You've been married. You have experiences I don't have. Sometimes when we go out or when we kiss because…" she felt her face flushing, "because you're a really good kisser, it feels like I'm a student and you're a teacher and that makes me feel icky."

Sylvester's face changed. He stared at her a long moment, and when he spoke, she could barely hear him. "Icky?"

She hated how she felt. She hated how she was making  _him_  feel. "I know Paige has taught Walter a lot. I know that's part of their bond. But initially, wasn't it just a professional trade off? She teaches him about social situations, he helps her and Ralph bond? It was never just about her teaching him, or her…fixing him or whatever. She gave and he took on some things and then he gave and she took on others, and they fell in love along the way." She put her head in her hands, pushing her hair back over the top of her head, then lifted it again to look back at him. "Sly, if we were both these naïve, inexperienced kids who had no idea or if I had more history, I know I would feel differently. But the way things are, I just…I feel I have nothing to give."

He nodded. She wasn't sure if he wasn't responding because he was processing or because he wanted to give her more time to get words out, but either way, she appreciated the quiet because she wasn't at all sure how to keep going. "I, uh…" she breathed out through her nose. "I've been more open with you than I have been with anyone in a long time. And that may sound surprising because it's still really difficult for me to be vulnerable. But I trust you. I like you. A lot. I just feel like we're totally unbalanced and that you know where you're going while I'm just following along, constantly wondering what to do next or even if I'm doing whatever I'm currently doing right."

He reached out one of his hands. "Can I…?" She nodded, lifting one of hers off her knee and bridging the gap. He squeezed it gently. "I've told you before that my wife was my first experience with a lot of things. She was like Paige in the sense that she would have qualified as a 'normal,' but neither of us really knew what we were doing in our relationship. We just knew it felt right when we were together. You might feel like our experience is unbalanced, but I don't feel that way. Megan and I were innocent, in a way. We kissed. We talked. We cuddled, sometimes, when she could handle it. One night, we danced. The talking was what meant the most to us. And doing things together, like sitting on the beach or reading or going places, when she was still mobile. I think those things are immeasurably important in relationships, but can you really get 'experience' at them?" He let the question hang a moment before going on. "You know, like 'oh, that Sylvester Dodd, he's really good at sitting in the sand' or 'he has great experience talking in person.'"

Florence smirked in spite of herself.

"You're eight years older than me, Florence. My wife was twelve years older than me. Some people might say  _that's_ …icky. But you're right. Experience is a huge part of it. If you had never been in a relationship and I'd dated as many people as Toby had, then  _maybe_  there'd be some sort of power imbalance there. But you're dating a guy who married his first crush less than a year after meeting her for the first time because she was dying and she needed someone in her corner." He grew quiet, looking down at the ring on his left hand. "I still miss her." He looked back at Florence. "And I struggled, really hard, with my feelings for you. I felt guilty. I felt like it was cheating on her to have butterflies in my stomach when you laughed at my jokes. I think that's part of why I lashed out at Walter so strongly that night; I was projecting those feelings onto him and translating hanging out with you as cheating on Paige." He shook his head. "See? There's so much that I don't know. I'm just as bumbling and confused as you are. Plus, love after loss is different. It isn't lesser. It doesn't mean my love for Megan was superficial or fleeting. But I'm a different person now, because I knew her, and because I loved her, so I love differently now. And that's something I know I'm ahead of you on, but I'm not so sure I know how to do this, at least not to the extent that I'm teaching you."

Florence gave a slow nod. She looked down at their hands. "Can I ask you something else? Something kind of…blunt?"

There was a long silence, but the tone that Sylvester used to say "of course," made her realize he had nodded and she just hadn't noticed.

She lifted her face to see him. "Why are you in love with me? And I don't mean that in an 'I'm not worthy' type of way."  _I mean, I have days where I feel that way, but I don't want you to fixate on that._ "I mean it in a, lay it out for me type of way."

"Well." He let go of her hand and drummed against his knees. "You're smart. You…and I knew this already, but looking at them now, wow you have pretty eyes, and…"

She held up a hand, slightly frustrated. He stopped and cocked his head. "What?"

"I don't want an equation, Sylvester. I don't want smart plus nice eyes equals." She shook her head. "I want to know why I'm different from all the other smart plus nice eyes people. You and I both know one plus one is always two. If I'm somehow more than them, there has to be a reason."

Sylvester was quiet for a moment, then licked his bottom lip. "You told Paige earlier this year that you needed someone who had enough heart for two. I can tell you some of the reasons I'm so drawn to you, Florence, but you'll have to take me at my word on the rest of it."

"I'm listening."

He started again. "I think you're cute and I do love your eyes, but it's your soul that gets me. The parts of you that would still remain if your appearance changed entirely. You're extremely intelligent. You're imperfect, but you try. You're  _good_. You care about people and you give everything your all. You're so, so  _human_. Even if you may think you're not sometimes. And then there's the part of this feeling that you  _can't_  really explain. You just know. And I've been around a lot of people since Megan died. But none of them made me feel this way. But you…you've got whatever 'it' is."

She was quiet for a long time, her eyes aimed down and away, but not really looking at anything. Then she gave a small nod. "That is a little bit confusing for me."

"I don't think anyone could honestly admit that they understand it completely."

She nodded again. "I'm sorry." She wiped her eye. "Can you go? I don't mean, like…I'm not ending this. I don't even know if I needed to clarify or not but you know, when in doubt…"

She stopped when Sylvester reached over and touched her cheek. "Hey," he said gently, "breathe."

"Yes. Thank you. Um…" she bit her lip. "I just need a little time. Like, tonight. I still want to see you tomorrow and everything. My head is just filled with so much."

He nodded. "I understand."

He got up to go, grabbing his jacket and his bag. She stood up, walking over and giving him a hug at the door. "Thank you for listening to me. And thank you for not making me feel like an idiot."

"Thank you for opening up to me," he whispered. "I know it isn't easy."

She buried her head into his chest, enjoying the feel of their arms around each other a moment longer. When he was gone, she stared at the closed door for what felt like hours before she took out her phone and dialed.

"Walter? It's Florence. I have something I want to ask you, but I don't know if we're at a place where it wouldn't be awkward…ha yeah, I suppose we don't do much  _in general_  that  _isn't_  awkward." She leaned against the wall. "I really appreciate it. Can I come over? I would much rather do this more detached, but I think I need experience at talking in person."


	5. Chapter 5

When Florence entered the garage, and after the formalities of a greeting, she and Walter stood a good twenty feet apart for a good twenty seconds before moving or speaking. Florence moved to break the ice first. "Hey. So."

"Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes, I mean, mostly. "

"Awkward conversation, mostly alright…" Walter tipped his head to the side.

"Yes.  But we are friends, right?"

"Of course."

"And you're the most like me.  So for matters like this...I feel I should be speaking with you."

"Seems…complicated. But is this something for me, or something you should be talking to Sylvester about, or, you know…" a _nyone else?_

"It's funny you should mention him. Because…I've been thinking about that."

"I am not the best judge, but that doesn't sound good. What did you do?"

She looked offended. "Why are you assuming that I did something?"

"I mean no offense. But that, well, you're…you're a lot like me. And it is usually my fault when something goes wrong with me and Paige, so…so I just assumed…" He cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

"You…said you had something awkward to ask me."

"Yes." She shifted her weight. He knew that body language. He had it often. She was uncomfortable. "Sylvester has been married."

"Yes." Walter cocked his head.

"Marriage is a serious thing."

"Y – yes."

"Did…did your sister have any relationships before Sylvester?"

"Not really. I'm sure she had brief, fleeting feelings for people. Much like y – ah, well, anyway, she never really had any serious thoughts, though to be fair I'm not sure she would have shared with me if she did. She got sick when she was very young."

"So they were each other's first loves, really."

"Yes. That I can say absolutely. Are you…" he cocked his head. "Are you jealous of my sister?"

Was she? Florence didn't think that was the right word. She also wasn't sure it would be appropriate to be jealous of a dead woman, though some would probably argue jealousy in and of itself wasn't usually appropriate. "I'm not jealous of her, no. Are…are you jealous of Paige's former partners?"

"No. The one she had since we knew each other, absolutely. I had just come to terms with the fact that I loved her and it was difficult, to say the least, to watch her with someone else. But during our relationship I never felt that way about people she was with before."

Florence nodded. "And she had more previous relationship experience than you."

"Oh yes. Extensively."

"Did…that bother you?"

"Ah." Walter gave a slow nod. "I believe I have figured out what is upsetting you in regards to Sylvester."

"Well. I don't think I was exactly trying to hide it."

"You have, I assume, no experience in relationships and you are worried that you will not measure up to him. But no fear. He has had one relationship that can be measured in months. Not – not to diminish his feelings for my sister," he added quickly. "I'm only saying that you cannot let the word  _married_  scare you. He and Megan built up a lot of history in their short time together. But they still did not have to discuss things like…children. Jealousy. They didn't have to worry about finances or physical incompatibility. They…"

"Physical incompatibility," Florence said. "Excellent. Another thing for me to stress about."

"My point," Walter said, "is you may have not had to navigate those things. But neither has he. Hell, neither have I or Paige, on some levels. We haven't discussed if we're ever going to have children together, and physical incompatibility, well, let's just say that is very much  _not_ a probl – "

"I don't want details!" she held up her hands.

"I was not going to give them." Walter shrugged. "With me and Paige, despite her being the only one of our original group to have never been married, I let my fears over not being good enough for her keep us apart longer than we should have been. In a way, those fears contributed to our breakup. What ended up getting us to a starting point – both times, as a matter of fact – was we knew we loved each other, and the need that that put forth overcame any anxieties we had. Love alone isn't enough to keep a relationship together, that I've come to learn. But it is a start. It is something you do have to have, at least eventually."

"How did you know that you were in love with Paige?"

Walter hesitated. "Really, it was when she dated someone else. She flaunted him a bit, if I may be completely honest. But I almost asked her out, and then I chickened out and basically set her up on a romantic weekend away with this other person. It happened that way because I was afraid, both that she would say no and that she would say yes and then I would mess it up and it would ruin the relationship we had in the first place. After they left for this trip, I realized I was feeling the way I was feeling because I loved her. I started picturing her with him. In all kinds of situations. I realized I wanted that to be me because of the way she made me feel when I was around her, and the way I wanted her to feel around me. And I felt like the biggest idiot in the world for letting her go."

"But you got her back."

"Twice, now." Walter folded his arms, drumming the fingers on his right hand against his left bicep.

"You and she, you were in love before you got together. Just like Happy and Toby. But I'm…"

"Most relationships don't start with such declarations…" he trailed off again. "You aren't in love with Sly like he is with you."

"I'm not. It's not that I don't think I can be. I love spending time with him. He makes me feel…" she stopped, her cheeks turning pink.

"I don't want details either," Walter said quickly.

"Oh, no, I wasn't, I just mean…" she held up her hands. "I mean like those butterflies you get. Looking at him and knowing I can hold his hand, knowing that he isn't repulsed by my touch. Even knowing he has these strong feelings for me, it feels  _good_  but it also makes me worried I'm not going to be enough for him."

"I used to think I wasn't enough for Paige. But just like I'm the only one who gets to decide if she's what I want, she's the only one who gets to decide if I'm what she wants."

"But she…" Florence stopped, but not quickly enough. "I mean…"

"But she said I wasn't what she wanted." Walter's eyes drifted slightly to the left. They were in the room where it happened. He looked back at the chemist. "But that isn't true anymore. She says it wasn't even true at the time." Giving Florence a small smile, he shrugged. "See? Every relationship is complicated like that. But the point stands. If Sylvester says you're enough for him, then you are."

"We're just so romantically unbalanced," Florence said quietly, looking down.

"Then take matters into your own hands. Figure out how to make it more balanced."

She shifted her weight again. "Can I ask another potentially awkward question?"

He didn't say no, so she continued before she could chicken out. "Before Paige, how experienced were you…in the whole…like the…intimacy…department?"

He shrugged again. "Not terribly. I had a bit. I'd gone through the motions a time or two. I knew where everything was. Even if your experience is extensive, there's always a learning curve with a new person. I knew it was important to communicate what you needed and to ask if you weren't sure. I also knew – thankfully, we both did – that practice makes perfect, or pretty damn close to it." He stopped. "I'm sorry. This is a little awkward."

"I know. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You are quite likely more experienced in  _that_  department than Sylvester. Just don't make him feel like it's a make or break for the relationship, at least not right away."

Florence did not even consider telling Walter the truth in that regard.

"And don't let numbers be intimidating, for either of you. Paige's is three times mine, though neither of ours is particularly high - oh, I probably shouldn't have told you that. Keep it to this conversation?"

She blinked. "I cannot imagine another conversation coming up where that would add anything to it."

He chuckled. "This is definitely the most awkward conversation I think we've had."

"You think this is more awkward then when I said tha…" she cocked her head. "Actually no, you know what? I'm gonna take it."

* * *

 Walter met Paige within paces of the door the following morning, handing her a small stack of crisp papers secured with a staple perfectly centered in the upper left corner.

"Morning," she said, leaning in to brush her lips against his. "What's this?"

"Florence came over last night," he said. "She wanted to talk about some things."

"…okay."

"Yes, so. In the interest of being honest…here." He handed her the stapled papers. "The minutes."

Paige gave him an odd look as she took them, then her eyes turned down to the front page. "What…" she trailed off, scanning and then flipping to the second, mumbling to herself. Then she looked up at Walter in alarm. "Walter!"

She didn't appear pleased. This threw him off. "Y – yes?"

"Walter, this is private stuff she's telling you."

"Yes. I want to emphasize that I did not encourage…" He stopped when she held up a hand. "What am I missing?"

She handed back the papers. "Walter, I really appreciate you letting me know she was over here. But you don't need to share every detail. Especially when from what I gathered, she told you things in confidence."

"Oh. Should I tell her now about this?"

She put a hand on his chest. "How about you just take it one lesson at a time, okay?"

"Okay. I just…I just want to be friends with her. But I don't want you to be scared. Are you? Upset, I mean."

Paige sighed. "I mean…she liked you not that long ago. My insecurities over her were a large part of our breakup. That doesn't go away quickly or easily. But I know nothing is going on between you, so that's just something that I have to figure out how to get over. I'm not upset with you. Or with her."

Walter held the papers back out. "You should at least look…" he paged through them. "Look here. I say some things about how I feel about you. You like hearing those things."

Paige's eyes moved left to right, reading the paragraph where he talked about how he had known he loved her. "Aw, Walter," she said, smiling. Her eyes trailed farther down, then shot up to his face.

"W…what?"

"You told her my  _number_?" She said incredulously.

"I realized as soon as I said so it was a mistake. And she doesn't know the exact number. I apologize. And see? I brought it up in the minutes I gave to you, so I am not hiding it."

Paige shrugged, tossing the papers to the side. "Fair enough. Mama's got game; can't be embarrassed about that."

"Well. I would not call six people 'game'."

"Hey now. I rocked six worlds. It's all relative, anyway."

"Whatever you say," he said teasingly. "You really think it was s _ix_ worlds, though?"

"Teenage boys all suck at sex.  _But_  they  _think_  all teenage girls are good at it. I guarantee you I was terrible but the only person who didn't  _have_  to think so  _didn't_  think so." She lifted an eyebrow suggestively, her fingers playing at one of the buttons on his shirt. "I like to think I've gotten considerably better at it."

"Mmmm, I would say so."

"Yeah? You would?"

Walter took a small step backward as she took one closer, preventing their bodies from touching. She gave him a curious look. "Paige, the others will be here in…"

She smirked, making up the step and tugged, opening his shirt and running a hand over his chest, trailing it tantalizingly down to his navel before moving back upward. He exhaled slowly through his nose. "Walter, we  _just_  got back together, let's not be unrealistic about where either of our stamina is at right now." She looked at her phone. "Happy and Toby have visitation with Tad. You know Cabe will be in line at the coffeehouse. We can hear the pipes when Florence gets out of the shower and we know Sly's bus schedule. Walter. We have  _at least_  seventeen minutes."

Walter gave himself a mental once over. "Yeah, you're right."

"Doable?"

"Totally doable."


	6. Chapter 6

"Sly,  _look_." Toby was bouncing Tad on his knee. "Isn't he the cutest little guy?"

Toby was smitten. Despite his anxiety, Sylvester smiled. "He is."

"Looks just like me, huh?"

Happy rolled her eyes. "He is astronomically cuter than you are."

"Look at you guys, being parents," Sylvester said. "It's so crazy how everything can change so quickly."

"Yes, and for once, for the better," Happy said. "At least, it's that way for the three of us. How are  _you_  though, Sly?"

"Okay. Good."

"Can't be that great. The Super Fun Guy artist is on that knockoff Ellen program this afternoon and yet you're here talking to us." Toby cocked his head. "Have you thought about what I'd said a few weeks back? About continuing your therapy with someone?"

"I've considered it. And I've decided that I can cope with what happened better if I don't dredge it up again. Plus," he added, shrugging, "Florence is right. I did kill someone, but it was him or all of us. I'm learning how to reconcile that. And I'm processing it fine on my own."

"Okay," Toby said.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"I believe you think that's enough. And sometimes it is. Just trust yourself, okay? If it keeps bubbling up, be honest about that and get help. You deserve more than a lifetime burden."

"I know."

Happy took Tad from Toby and sat down next to him, making a surprised face. The baby giggled. Happy made the face again. Tad giggled again. Happy looked very pleased.

"Something else is bothering you, isn't it?" The behaviorist said, lifting his eyebrows.

Sylvester shrugged.

"There is." Happy looked at him in that no – nonsense way. "You said you were worried about something.  _We_  brought up Miller. You haven't told us anything that's miss – Knockoff – Ellen worthy."

"It's something to do with Florence, isn't it?" Toby asked. "Things not going well? It's been…it's been almost a month now."

It had been. And over a week since the night she'd pulled away from him in her lab. It wasn't like they hadn't seen each other since then. In fact, just the previous day she'd sat next to him on a flight back from Texas, after a case that had almost gone pretty wrong, holding his hand tightly and resting her chin on his shoulder. Things weren't  _weird._  Now that he could touch her, he wanted to, all the time, and it certainly seemed she felt that way, too. Yet the business of the words she'd said to him kept rattling around in his head and he couldn't get rid of them.

"I've been married before."

"Yep," Toby and Happy said in unison.

"What if…what if she thinks that means I'm in a rush to get married again? What if she thinks we should do something I'm not ready for?" He covered his face in his hands. "What if I let her down because she so clearly expects me to be so good at relationships, what if…" he lifted his head slowly. "Oh, God. What if she's looking for an out because I really  _am_  just a consolation prize?"

"Wouldn't put it past her," Happy grumbled.

"Hap, not the time," Toby said quietly. He looked at Sylvester. "You remember when we were in Europe. She thought you and Walter were both going to die.  _You_  were her primary concern. Whatever she felt for Walter…it doesn't mean she's settling for you. Paige was in love with Drew. I was in love with Amy. Neither of us are settling for the person we're with now. And Florence's thing, I mean, it was a crush. People get them. They go away."

Happy mumbled something, getting to her feet and carrying Tad out of the room.

"She hates her," Sylvester said.

"She doesn't. She's worried we won't all be able to heal. She doesn't trust Florence entirely."

"At all."

"No. That isn't true. You know she would have gone to her and made some kind of threat if she really, fully didn't trust her. She hasn't done that because she  _wants_  everything to work out. But you know how she is. She puts on that tough front when something scares her. Tough, and sometimes aggressive. Florence does that too, I've seen."

Except for a couple times when they were alone, Sylvester thought. He realized he hadn't quite appreciated it as much as he should have, when she opened up to him.

Toby cocked his head, watching the younger man through the long silence. "You know, Sly, when I saw you two kissing in Europe, I said that that was going to be the toughest fix. That doesn't mean it can't be done. It just means deciding to date each other isn't a master key for all problems."

Somewhere nearby, a door slammed closed. Toby frowned, then got up and went to the window. "Okay. I'll admit when I'm wrong."

Sylvester got up. "What?"

* * *

Florence was deep in the level of Wikipedia that one only reached when continually clicking links embedded in different pages that eventually led far away from what was originally being read.

"Interesting," she said to herself. Pulling out her phone, she composed a text to Sylvester.  _Did you know the oldest known seal lived to be thirty – five? There are almost six seal years to a people year. That's like a two – hundred – year – old seal!_

He responded back almost immediately, but it contained no acknowledgement of her cool seal fact.  _Is Happy there?_

She frowned. Why would Happy be here?  _No, she…_

There was a banging at her door. " _Tipton! Open up! I know you're in there, Tipton, open this damned door!"_

Florence deleted what she had typed.  _Yep, she's here._ She hit send, dropped her phone on her desk, and went to the door. "Hey Happy, what's – "

Happy was two inches shorter than Florence, but that didn't mean that when bowling into the taller woman she couldn't knock her clear over. Florence was on her back before she knew what was happening, and she snapped into defense mode, pushing back against Happy's weight and trying to get use of her knees. "Happy,  _what the hell_?"

" _I knew it_!" Happy yelled.  _"I knew you were nothing but trouble!"_

Florence pushed Happy off, flipping over and knocking Happy from her knees back to the ground, pinning her under her hips and hands. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

"Oh, like you don't know." She squirmed. "Let me up, Tipton!"

"Not until you tell me what's going on." Florence leaned forward, putting more weight on her arms, which held down Happy's.

"Get off me!"

" _Tell me why you're here!"_

Happy sneered up at her. "I don't know what it is you're up to, but I do know you're going to  _stop it right now_."

" _What_?" Florence shouted back _. "What would I be up to?"_

"First you cause use to almost lose our family by falling in love with Walt, now you're messing with Sly's head." Happy twisted hard to one side, trying to shake Florence loose. "I don't know why the hell you chose us to mess with, but it's going to stop. Or so help me – "

" _Hey_!" Florence snapped, her voice coming out much lower than usual. She leaned down until she was right in Happy's face. "I was  _never_  actually  _in love_  with Walter. I had a crush which I didn't admit to until  _after_  he and Paige broke up. And I'm  _not_  playing with Sylvester's head. I'm dating him because I  _like_  him."

"Until you decide you don't have a crush on him anymore either, huh?" Happy jerked one of her wrists free and reached up, grabbing the collar of Florence's shirt and using the leverage to pull herself into a sitting position, their noses nearly touching. "Is that how it works?"

Unless Florence had been wildly misinformed that  _was_ , actually, how dating worked. "What do you want from me, Happy?"

"Sly is still dealing with the whole business of shooting someone. He's still repairing his relationship with Walter. He cares so much for you and wants your relationship to work but he is just fixated on the idea that despite everything, you're settling for him, or that you have these expectations for him that he can't make, like Paige had for Walter. Happy's hips were still pinned to the ground by Florence's, but when she unexpectedly threw herself to the left, Florence found herself on her right side. She scrambled to her feet before Happy could hold her down. The mechanic got to her feet as well, glaring at her. "I'm saying shit or get off the pot, Tipton."

"What on Earth is going on here?"

Florence and Happy turned their heads in unison toward Toby. "Happy," he said carefully. "What's…what's happening?"

"Nothing." Happy folded her arms. "I'm just defending Scorpion's honor."

"With Tad in the car? You got yourself into a physical altercation with Tad in the car?"

"The car is two feet from the door, it isn't hot, and he's sleeping," Happy said. "Don't try to  _terrible parent_  me."

" _Happy_ ," Toby said, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You initiated a fight with the kid we are trying to adopt present. They could take him from us."

Florence could see the horror in Happy's eyes, despite the fact that she was seeing the mechanic on an angle. Then, like she did, Happy masked fear with anger. "Not if no one yaks about this," she said, eyeing Florence.

"I'm not going to try to make you lose your kid," Florence said. "You know why? Because contrary to what you seem to believe, I don't consider the goal of my existence to be to ruin your life."

"Good! So everyone is fine here then, huh?"

Somehow Florence hadn't even realized that Sylvester was there, too, standing in the doorway. "I thought everything was fine already," she said. "I thought we were all okay with each other."

"Scorpions defend their cyclone," Happy said, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Florence again. "Against enemies. I'm still not convinced you aren't one."

"That's fair. I know I've given you reason to doubt me in the past." Florence spoke slowly, both to keep composed and to take extra care in her words.

"This has been a weird year, Flo," Toby said, still with a cautious hand on Happy. "We're all a bit touchy. Maybe it's growing pains. A lot is changing. Isn't that right, Happy?"

"I'm not apologizing."

"I don't want your apology anyway," Florence said, raising her chin.

"Uh…" Sylvester shifted awkwardly. "Maybe a bad time to interject? But um, Tad is…is still…"

Toby and Happy bolted from the lab.

Florence wasn't sure if Sylvester was going to follow them. He turned back to her slowly. "What side of this door do you want me on?"

Her throat was closing up and her chest felt constricted.  _Dammit._  She didn't trust herself to speak, so she just gestured. Sylvester closed the door, locked it, then walked over and pulled her close.

"She hates me," Florence whispered. She was okay whispering. "She's always going to hate me."

"No," Sylvester said. "She's just scared. She's scared about a lot of things."

"Well," Florence replied, a tear following the same track down her cheek as the previous one, "that makes two of us, then."

* * *

Toby followed Happy's car home, pleased to see she was driving safely, and when they arrived back, he continued to follow a few paces behind as she carried the baby seat inside. Tad never woke up through the whole thing, even when she took him out and laid him in the crib to continue his nap.

"Happy?" He said gently, when she returned to the living room. She shook her head. He debated whether or not he should push a conversation.

Everyone always thought he had all the answers. Everyone always looked to him for what to do.

He was pleased when Happy dropped onto the couch next to him and curled up close. He held her. He thought that, for now, this might be conversation enough.


	7. Chapter 7

Florence was mid thought – specifically, mid  _if you had told me at any point prior to the past month that I would be on a date consisting of going to someone's house to watch the new made for TV Super Fun Guy movie, I would have said you had more than one screw loose_ \- when she realized that honestly, that was a complete thought after the first twenty words.

But here she was, on a date, and on a date that consisted of going to Sylvester's house to watch the new made for TV Super Fun Guy movie. She wasn't  _unfamiliar_  with Super Fun Guy, not even prior to meeting Team Scorpion, but it certainly had fallen more in the General Knowledge category of her brain. She had never really lost herself in anything fiction, but she wasn't  _opposed_  to it. It just had never happened.

She wondered if that was because so much of fandom involved being social with people, and even via messages, even when people shared a common interest with her, she had never been good at being social. The only people she had regular contact with before Scorpion was a few casual friends who she met up with at chemistry events, and she was probably stretching the definition of 'regular contact'.

Sylvester stopped in front of a door near the end of the hallway and unlocked it. "Well, this is mi casa," he said, gesturing with an arm.

"Very nice," she said, her eyes scanning the apartment. It was small, an efficient layout, and impeccable. There were posters and framed comic books on the wall, some of which appeared to be signed. She would have expected nothing less from him than exactly this. The entire aesthetic was so very Sylvester that she immediately felt comfortable, even though she'd never been in his apartment before.

"Where's your television?" She asked.

"Oh, it's in the other room," he replied, dropping his keys onto a hook by the door. "I used to have these moments of paranoia where I thought a sniper was going to get me through these living room windows so I moved my TV into my bedroom, that way I could sort of hunker down and commit to watching something with a less terrifying window layout." He frowned. "I have medication for that now. I don't just walk around thinking every window is a prime opportunity for some assassin. You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"No," Florence said. "Anxiety is unpredictable. That's the only predictable thing about it, really. Fears don't have to be logical, in fact they usually aren't. That makes situations when they are all the more terrifying though. You spend the majority of your life reminding yourself that this is nothing, that is nothing, and then when something actually  _is_  something…it's like everything you'd been reassuring yourself about becomes a lie."

Sylvester was looking at her curiously, and she shrugged, feeling her cheeks getting pink. "I've had some…brushes with anxiety myself. It manifests much differently than yours. Mine is irritability, or a sudden need to exercise to burn the feeling off."

He raised his eyebrows. "That explains our first meeting with you, maybe."

"Oh no. You guys were being loud and inconsiderate and I stand by my reaction. Although sometimes anxiety does make your tolerance levels for things lower. Sensory overload, almost."

He nodded rapidly, a small smile on his face. "I'm not, I mean…" he frowned again. "I'm not happy you have to deal with it. I just…it's rare to find someone who understands and can articulate it well. Maybe it's just because I have the same reactions sometimes, but I know exactly what you mean."

Florence beamed.

"Well, uh," he said, making another gesture to the door ahead of them on the right. "Movie starts in a few."

Sylvester's bedroom was very similarly decorated – comic books that appeared to be limited edition, a few items that looked like movie props, a whiteboard with math that even someone with Florence's IQ couldn't even begin to try to work out. There was a picture frame on the desk by his bed. Once her eyes landed on it, she found herself unable to look away. She couldn't eve remember seeing a photograph of Walter's sister, Sylvester's wife, but she knew, even without context clues, that that was the woman looking back at her. Florence already knew that Megan had been beautiful, strong, and proud, but somehow that all came through in the photograph, even though the setting appeared to be rather soft. Florence felt a pang in her heart, both out of sympathy for Sylvester and an odd wish that she could have known this woman, been her friend, perhaps learned from her.

Sylvester came up next to her, and Florence could sense by the heavy silence that he had noticed where she was looking. When she finally took her eyes away from the frame, she glanced up at her boyfriend, watching him as he reached over, picking up the photo and looking down at it with his lower lip curled under.

"Megan." Florence stated the obvious in an attempt to break a silence she suddenly felt very uncomfortable with.

Sylvester nodded. He reached out with his free hand and gently touched a finger to the photograph, right on her cheek. "Man, she was something."

Florence reached out, placing a hand on his back and resting her head against his upper arm. Sylvester looked at the photo another moment, a long moment, and then set the frame back down.

"I can go," Florence said softly.

He looked down at her, sliding an arm around her waist. "No," he said. "Not unless  _you_  want to."

"No, I don't want to," she said quickly. "I want to see this movie you've been going on about for the last week."

"Oh I've been going on about it much longer than that," he said with a playful smirk, "I just saved the chatter for Toby and Paige because I didn't want to chase you away."

He climbed onto the bed and grabbed the remote, clicking the TV on before settling back against the pillows. Florence joined him, sitting more upright against the headboard and crossing her ankles.

Sylvester glanced at her. "You comfy? I may have another pillow somewhere."

"Nah, I'm good. Sitting like this is good for my back."

He nodded understandingly. "Skeletal health is very important. Ohhhhhh," He slapped her arm lightly in excitement, "it's starting!"

The movie itself – despite coming into existence within a cult fandom – was surprisingly easy to follow. At first, Florence's only confusion stemmed from Sylvester's elbow periodically bumping her, but she soon realized she needed to remember what was being said or done at the time he nudged her, because he utilized commercial breaks to explain backstory, behind the scenes anecdotes, and predictions. Surprisingly – or perhaps not – most of his predictions were right. "Look at that," she said, when Zany Zoe kissed Super Fun Guy on the lips and said a quiet  _just for luck_  before he took off after the enemy. "You had that down."

"The producers had teased a  _Star Wars_  reference relating to those two, and the kiss was in one of the commercials. Sans dialogue, but we figured that was what it would be."

"We, as in your forum friends or Toby and Paige?"

"Forum friends, though Toby and Paige have definitely heard my theories."

Florence smiled. About halfway through the movie she had shifted so she was leaning against the pillows, much like he was, and the reclined position and added comfort made her realize how tired she was. She knew she ought to get up, walk around, wash her face, or at least sit back against the headboard to fight sleep, but she was just. so. tired.

* * *

Sylvester hadn't realized Florence had fallen asleep until he woke up to sunlight sneaking through his drapes and realized that he too had drifted off, probably shortly after the movie ended, as he swore he remembered the closing scene and he did  _not_  fall asleep to Super Fun Guy. But the movies usually had a lengthy credits sequence, during which parts of the score were played, and that had done him in more than once.

He checked his phone. It was mid – morning.

Florence was definitely still out, in the exact same position he remembered her in the last time he had looked over. Not quite propped up on the pillows, not quite fully laying down, one leg extended and the other bent slightly at the knee, hands resting on her stomach. Her hair was only slightly mussed in the back, and the look on her face was peaceful.

It was strange, waking up next to someone, waking up next to someone who wasn't Megan, waking up next to someone somewhere that wasn't a hospital.

He usually still did wake up next to Megan – the photograph of her on his nightstand. But Florence was between him and the nightstand.

He shrugged off a slight jolt of guilt. Florence wasn't coming between him and her. She had been gone for years. She would want him to be happy. And she – Florence, that is – had stayed despite clearly noticing his emotional reaction to her looking at Megan's picture. He'd found a great deal of comfort and reassurance…and even some relief? in her touch, and he knew a good portion of that relief was knowing that he was being comforted, quietly, by someone who  _wanted_  him to be okay.

Toby had talked about a therapist for all his unresolved issues with Garret Miller. Sylvester knew having an objective third party helped some people immensely. But he also knew it wasn't for him. He healed best when around people who cared about him for reasons other than the fact that they were getting paid.

He shifted his weight, and Florence's eyes flew open, leading him to wonder if she had actually been asleep. Then she stretched and yawned, grunting quietly before sitting up and looking over at him. "Sorry. I know this wasn't meant to be a sleepover."

"No need to apologize," he said. "Even if I hadn't fallen asleep too, I wouldn't have wanted you going back home by yourself when you were that tired."

"I liked the movie," she said. "I'll have to maybe get into Super Fun Guy some.  _Maybe_ ," she emphasized, holding up a hand when his face lit up.

"I'll take maybe," he said with a grin.

She grinned back. "I usually don't fall asleep in beds I'm unfamiliar with," she said. "I spent some time in the Air Stream after our…well, after that case with Tad, and I ended up sleeping well there but only because I just could not get my mind to stop racing and eventually it was like I overloaded and shut down."

"You must have been really tired, then."

"That," she said, "and…" she blushed a little. "And I guess I just feel comfortable here. This whole apartment is just so you, and I know you, so it was like a familiar place even thought it wasn't. If that makes any kind of sense."

"It does." He smiled, scooting over closer to her and kissing her cheek. She turned her head, putting her lips on his, and he suddenly wondered if he had bad breath. She didn't seem to think so, because she kept kissing him, lifting a hand to place it on his chest. He trailed his up and down her back, his fingertips brushing lightly along her sweater.

"I need to go," Florence murmured, resting her forehead against his.

"Yeah. We're both late as heck."

"Eh. We would have known by now if there was a case. How many times have Happy and Toby been late?"

"I prefer not to think about them being late. Then I have to stop myself from wondering what sort of historically inaccurate roleplay they're into nowadays."

She blinked, then started laughing. "I think it's sad that that sentence doesn't even sound weird to me any more."

* * *

"You're late," Paige noted when Sylvester walked into the garage. She was sitting at Walter's desk, looking through some paperwork.

"Yeah," he said. "Florence spent the night."

Paige smiled. "Atta boy."

He stopped and gave her a look. "No. We watched the movie and fell asleep."

"Was it nice, though?"

"I just said it wasn't like that."

Paige shook her head. "I know, I mean was all of that nice? The movie, spending time with her in that setting, stuff like that."

He nodded. "Yeah, that was."

"Good." Paige nodded. "It's nice to be able to have that with someone, isn't it? I remember the first night I spent here…"

"That was…like…different. Though."

"Oh, I mean we definitely slept together," Paige said. "But I mean, it was similar in that we got to be alone together for an extended period of time. It was nice to just have that affirmation that we mutually trusted the other enough to be vulnerable. In more than one way, obviously, but feeling safe enough to sleep with someone next to you is closeness that doesn't get enough appreciation."

Sylvester considered that, remembering the way he'd felt waking up next to her. "I know what you mean." He cocked his head. "I feel like that isn't talked about a lot. Like Happy and Toby, they love each other about as much as anyone can, but Toby's commentary is always about how hot she is, and how often they're doing it. There's nothing wrong with that, obviously…"

"Sometimes it's actually easier to talk about sex than other levels of closeness," Paige said. "It's more lighthearted, I suppose? Like with me and Walter. Our first night together…it was worth every second of the three years we were building toward it. The sex part…it was really, really good." Her cheeks flushed. "But there was  _also_  just that closeness. The kissing. The skin to skin. Holding each other and knowing that we were just loving each other with every move we made and everything we said. We were both pretty pent up and we made sure that part was fully taken care of, but there was so much more to it. We talked, mostly sappy stuff that I don't know if he will ever get me to actually repeat. We held hands. I fell asleep on his side of the bed. I'm sure you've noticed Walter always refers to sex in the same way.  _We've been intimate_  or  _our intimacy_ , etcetera. And he makes good on the use of that word."

She had never told him any of this before. Sylvester could see what she meant by how some things were just hard to talk about, even if they were pure and strong.

"It seems you and Florence are learning to not fixate on milestones," Paige said. "You're both just worried about making sure you're doing things right. And it sounds like you are. Not that you asked me, of course."

Sylvester smiled. "Thank you, Paige. For…all of that. I imagine it must have been hard for you to share with me."

"Well," Paige said, dropping her voice. "I think Walter could hear me. So I was telling him, too. I don't think I ever quite said those things out loud before. Communicating isn't always a breeze for me, even though that's a large part of my job."

"Happy to be your cover story," he said with a wink. "Is there fruit in the fridge?"

"I think so."

Sylvester walked off. Almost as if he was cued in, Walter appeared. "Hey."

Paige smiled at him. "Hey."

"So," he said, putting his hands in his pockets as he crossed the room. "I, uh, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Sylvester."

She gave a short laugh. "I was partly wondering if you would."

He came to a stop at the edge of the desk. "I don't think I realize how hard words can be for you, too."

"I think," she said, "words can be hard for all of us, depending on circumstances."

"Well," he said, nodding slowly, "I've never said anything like that to you. About our first night. But I feel the exact same way. I don't think I'd ever realized just how connected I could feel to someone, despite already knowing how much I love you."

Paige stood up, a small smile appearing. "I'm glad to hear that it meant the same things to you. I mean, I thought…I knew it did. But hearing it is really nice."

He pulled her into his arms. "You know how much I struggle with emotions," he said, resting a hand against the back of her head. "But you make it easy."

" _Easier_ , right?" She asked, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "It's not even easy for me. Don't leave me behind here."

He chuckled. "I don't know that it will ever be easy for me, I suppose. But yes. Definitely easier."


	8. Chapter 8

"We're going to do something for Christmas this year, right?" Cabe asked.

"Of course we are," Walter said. He gave the older man an odd look. "Why wouldn't we?"

"Well," Cabe said, "we were back together for Thanksgiving and managed to miss it, and last Christmas wasn't exactly one I care to think too much about given the whole…everything else."

"We only missed Thanksgiving because of a case," Walter said, "and last Christmas is exactly why I am determined to give Paige the best Christmas ever. One that will permanently shake off any negative feelings surrounding the holiday."

"That's pretty ambitious," Cabe noted.

"Well," Walter said, giving a shrug, "I'm an ambitious man, Cabe. There never was a successful individual who did not care."

"I like your attitude," Cabe said. "So what's the big plan?"

Walter frowned. "Big plan?"

"Well, yeah." Cabe cocked his head. "What are you going to do to make it the best Christmas ever?"

Walter was looking at Cabe as if they were speaking an entirely different language. "…nothing."

"Nothing." Cabe cocked his head the other direction. "So you doing  _nothing_  is the plan to make this a better Christmas than last year?"

"When I refused to go with her and Ralph, when I cut their vacation short with my life – threatening injury, and when I let myself get preoccupied with my stupid dream?" Walter raised his eyebrows. "Those are all things I  _did_ , and whether they were intentional or not, they all affected Paige in a negative way. I'm not going to do that this year. She doesn't care for one grand gesture after another. She just wants me to be present. So that is my present – my presence."

"I feel like that should come off as arrogant, but it oddly doesn't."

"Well, you know," Walter said, "I'm sure I'll return to my greatest hits eventually, but I'm testing the waters on some new material right now."

"Heh. Well, it's an interesting approach, to say the least."

"What are you and Allie doing?"

"Her sister is flying in. She's been going through some stuff lately and, uh, well, we want to be there for her. We both want to take part in whatever we decide on doing as a family here, which is why I'd asked."

"Well," Walter said, "I believe Paige and Sylvester and Toby are working on that. It is more their wheelhouse, anyway."

* * *

"Toby, if you guys can't do this on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, when exactly do you plan for us all to celebrate?" Paige folded her arms. "I don't get why you can't do your family time with Tad one day and spend the other day with us. We're his family, too."

"It will be our first Christmas with our child," Toby said. "We want to spend as much time with the three of us as possible. Didn't you spend your first Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with your son just you and Ralph?"

"Yes, because Drew was too busy meeting with new agents who assured him time was of the essence. It wasn't preferable."

"Toby," Sylvester said, trying a different angle, "when would  _you_  like to have the Scorpion Christmas party, if not Christmas Day or Christmas Eve?"

"Christmas Adam," Toby said. "December 23rd. It may come before Christmas Eve and be generally unsatisfying, but we can  _change_  that."

Paige cocked her head. "You just wanted to be able to say that, didn't you?"

Toby looked appalled. "How dare you imply I be difficult about scheduling our first real Christmas party in years just to make a dirty joke!"

"I'm not implying," Paige said, "I'm asking."

"Fair enough. We can do either Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, doesn't matter to us."

* * *

"Is Happy going to be okay with me  _being_  at Christmas?" Florence asked anxiously.

"She'll have to be," Sylvester said. "You're a part of the team, and you're my girlfriend."

"And the last time you guys had a proper Christmas party, Paige brought her boyfriend and things imploded."

"Well, we also had people trying to kill us, it wasn't just about Walter and Tim wanting to kill each other." Sylvester said with a smile. "But that was different. Tim wasn't part of this team. Not really. You are."

"But how?" she asked. "How is this  _really_  different?"

"Tim didn't actually like us, you know. He was tolerating us to be close to Paige. And honestly he brought out the worst in her. You bring out good things in me. And in the most incredible one eighty I've ever witnessed, you like us now."

She laughed. "That I do." She got quiet, tugging at the bottom of her shirt. "Hey."

He cocked his head, looking amused. "Hey?"

"Uh, well here's…there's this thing?" She shook her head. "Let me start over. There's a chemistry…it's kind of an amalgamation of a symposium and convention. It's in Florida in January. I'm going, and I was wondering if maybe you…want to come?"

Sylvester opened his mouth to respond, but she continued before he could. "I know we haven't been together long enough that a big cross country trip would necessarily look like it made sense on paper, but I mean, we travel out of the country all the time, granted that's for work, but if we look at it a certain way then this is technically work related and – "

"Yes, Florence," he said, smiling. "I'd love to go."


	9. Chapter 9

It wasn't that Paige didn't always want Christmas to be perfect. It was just that this year her standard for perfect had been elevated.

In all honesty, the last time Christmas had felt completely right was the year they'd spent it on the beach – no, that was wrong. That was Megan's send off. In order to be  _completely_  right, she had to go back one year prior. Granted, they'd still been on the beach. But afterward, at the garage…

It was that feeling that she would never be able to walk away from. At least not for long.

So she shifted on her mattress, re-crossed her legs the other way, and checked her shopping list again – three times, outdoing Santa Claus, who famously only checked his list twice. As if that automatically meant one hadn't missed something.

Paige briefly wondered why she was getting competitive with Santa Claus.

She heard a brief commotion from down the hall. It sounded as if Ralph's "get a jump on the next semester" study group was finishing up for the day. Of course they would meet up on Christmas Adam. Her son was friends with such nerds. She smiled affectionately.

"Mom?" Ralph peered around the door frame. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure."

"One of my friends needs a ride home. It's just two miles, but with the rain…and you're going to the store anyway for Tuesday, right?"

"Yeah, no problem." Paige pulled her hair up into a ponytail and followed her son out into the living area. "Hey," she said to the girl waiting. "You need a ride, sweetheart?"

"If you don't mind," she said. "I think I'm on the way to where you're going."

"Of course I don't mind," Paige said. "I just want you to be safe. And it's pretty gross out there." She grabbed her keys from the coffee table. "Let's go."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"Ralph, you want me to grab you some Del Taco or something on my way back?" Paige laughed when her son wrinkled his nose. "I'll take that as a no."

"You get sick one time, and it's just never the same."

"Fair. Okay, come on," she said to Ralph's friend. "What was your name again?" She asked as they headed down the stairs."

"Brianna," the girl replied. "Brianna Schultz."

* * *

"Cabe, you're going to dig to China if you keep scuffing your shoe in the same spot. That is, if digging to China was possible and if China actually was the opposite side of the world from here, but I have too much to do to be as obnoxious as Walter." Toby flipped a pen in the air and caught it with his other hand. "Something is bothering you, old man."

"No," Cabe said, too casually. "Just planning for getting Allie's sister from the airport, that's all."

"No, it isn't just that. What is it, that's the question here. Allie catch you in your glasses? Intimacy problems? Got a little creak in your back?"

"My personal life is none of your business, doc," Cabe said, turning away from them and sipping his coffee. His shift caused his shoe to scuff a different spot.

"You had a very minimal but telling reaction when I suggested intimacy problems," Toby said, darting around Cabe so they were facing each other again. "You know there's  _all kinds_  of medication out there these days that – "

" _That's_  not a problem," Cabe said immediately.

"So what's the issue?" Toby asked, settling down into his chair. "Lay it all out."

"It's nothing," Cabe said.

"Spill it, Gallo. You know I give great advice."

Cabe gave a sigh. "It's just…" he lowered his voice slightly. "Allie and I have just been…less intimate lately, and it's strange."

"Ah. Can't relate. Happy and I rarely go two days without bumping uglies."

"Also not the problem," Cabe said. "Not what I mean. It's just like…" He frowned. "This is awkward, doc, do we really need to do this?"

"You haven't walked away yet."

Cabe stared at him for a long time, then sighed. "Okay, look. Everything is normal. Everything  _seems_  normal. But it's like…it's less."

"You feel less. Emotionally."

Cabe nodded. "And I think she is experiencing the same thing. We're less affectionate with each other. And it concerns me."

"So you still want to be with her."

"Absolutely. I love her."

Toby gave a thoughtful nod. "Sometimes couples just go through periods where the intimacy isn't as intense."

"You've been through it, then."

"No," Toby said. "Not with Happy. It's always intense. Emotionally, physically…"

Walter cleared his throat loudly from his desk.

"You know what I mean though, right Walt?" Toby asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Walter looked startled to be put on the spot. "I…I was only half listening."

"Sex sometimes disappointing?"

"N – no. Wait, do you mean like, for periods of time, or individual encounters?"

"Periods of time," Cabe said.

"Then no."

"Individual encounters?"

"Also no."

"Hmph," Cabe grunted.

"Talk to Allie, Cabe," Toby said. "None of us want Grandma and Grandpa to split up."

"You watch yourself, doc," Cabe said. "I'm not old enough to be your grandpa."

"Oh, not mine. But you know,  _somebody's_."

Their three heads turned in unison at the sound of the front door. "Well, look who we have here," Toby said. "It's Fly."

"It's what?" Florence asked, frowning.

"It's a combination of Florence and Sylvester," Sylvester said. "Well, Florence and Sly. Toby does that with everyone. You know, Quintis, Waige, Callie."

"Callie may be on the rocks," Toby said. "We're discussing intimacy levels."

"Hey," Cabe said. "Isn't there a confidentiality thing you adhere to?"

"Walter already knows, and Happy is upstairs working on her blueprint near the intercom," Toby said. "It wasn't exactly a secure conversation already. Say, Sylvester," he added, "what would you say is your rate of less than satisfactory intimacy in your relationship?"

Sylvester immediately took on a look of discomfort, and after glancing at him, Florence faced Toby and folded her arms thoughtfully. "You mean, like, for periods of time, or individual encounters?"

Sylvester choked on a laugh. Toby looked at her in surprise. Florence smirked. "We were standing right outside. Your voice carries."

"Damn. And here I was thinking Sylvester finally traded in his V card."

"Why are you so fixated on someone else's sex life?" Florence asked, her tone sharp. "I mean, Cabe, that's a came – to – you – for – advice situation, but what on Earth do you get out of throwing out those comments about Sylvester?"

"It's this thing called humor," Toby said. "Maybe you've heard of it."

"Oh I've heard of it. I just don't think you mocking him is funny."

"Lori…" Sylvester started.

"I want you to apologize," she said, still staring at Toby. "And stop making jokes out of shit that doesn't matter."

The two of them locked eyes, neither moving or blinking. Then Toby coughed. "Alright. Sly?"

"Yes, Toby?"

"Perhaps my jokes about your sexual experiences were in poor taste."

"That," Florence said, taking a step toward him, "does not sound like an apology."

"I'm sorry, Sylvester," Toby said, his voice betraying his annoyance.

"Half assed. But I'll take it. Sly?"

"Thank you, Toby."

Florence appeared satisfied with the exchange. "Cool. Sylvester, let's go next door."

* * *

" _God_ , I'm sorry about him," Florence said, bringing a mug of water from the tap over to where he sat on her couch.

"He was my friend first," Sylvester said. "I should be apologizing about him, not you." He took a drink of water. "And I really…it means a lot that you'd call him out. In his defense, I never flat out told him how much the comments bothered me. And sexually charged comments are pretty much in his personality description at this point, though they're usually just about him and Happy."

"Well, hey," she said, lifting her mug. "Can't have disappointing sex if you aren't having sex, yeah?"

Sylvester smirked, clinking his mug with hers.

She drained at least half of her drink before speaking again. "So. Um. Just on that note?" Florence shifted her weight. "So, whatever your answer is is okay, I just, I was wondering if…" God, she felt awkward. "Have you ever thought about me? You know, like  _that_?" She could have sworn the silence that followed was long and loud, but she realized when she started speaking again that she'd barely given him enough time to process the question. "Because I have…thought about what it might…be like. Not in a fixation way. Just, you know, thoughts passing through the brain…" she waved her hand around her head, making a nonsense noise to accompany the motion.

He caught the waving hand. "I have too."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "I don't know if I'm ready yet."

"I don't know if I am, either. I don't even know how to tell if I am."

"I think it shouldn't be as big of a deal as we're conditioned to think it is," Sylvester said. "I already have a hard time really envisioning going through with it, with my need for cleanliness. Add in societal pressure…"

"It's more complicated than it needs to be," she agreed. "But it will change things between us. We can't deny that. And anything that will change aspects of our relationship is a little…scary, I guess." She realized when he squeezed her hands that at one point they had started holding them. "Though I guess being in a relationship itself is scary. There's so many levels of intimacy and it's…" she trailed off. "I enjoy it. I do. It's just so much."

"I know. And I'm sure you still worry a bit about never being in one of these before, but trust me." He kissed her forehead. "I feel all the same things as you."

"Sly?" She tipped her head the other way. "Did you call me  _Lori_  back there?"

He looked thoughtful. "I think I did. When you were standing up for me." Something like alarm came over his face. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, no." She put a hand on his chest. "I know I hate nicknames, but…" God, she could actually feel herself blushing. "I liked it."

"You did?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I did. I think you can call me that again."

"Wow, you do like that," Sylvester said. His voice took on a slightly mischievous tone. "So is it like, doing anything for you, or…"

His smile turned into a grin when she burst out laughing.


	10. Chapter 10

Paige sincerely hoped that Cabe and Allie couldn't tell that the entire team spent their Christmas party trying to figure out what was wrong between them. They did their best to exchange glances, cocked eyebrows, and shrugs and nods when the older couple wasn't looking.

They were the first couple to leave, citing Allie's sister being in town, and after a round of hugs, the rest of the team gathered around the door.

"It's been a rough year," Cabe said, nearly echoing what Walter had said before dinner, "but we're all where we're supposed to be again."

"Amen," Happy said. "I'm not even religious, but an amen feels appropriate there."

Allie chuckled. "Again, hate to run on you, but family."

"Family is important," Paige said. "You guys have a great Christmas."

Cabe and Allie slipped out the door. It closed with a quiet click, and after a pause, everyone turned to each other.

"I have no idea what's going on."

"Me either," Sylvester said, nodding toward Happy. "They seem fine."

"No," Toby said, "they seem off. But I can't put my finger on why."

"They definitely seem off," Paige agreed.

"Maybe they just had a fight and that's throwing the rest of everything off," Walter suggested.

"I don't think so," Paige said. "I feel like they would be short with each other if they were fighting. Petty, maybe."

"We can't all have your relationship," Happy said.

Paige opened her mouth to argue, then folded her arms and shrugged. "That's fair."

In Happy's arms, Tad looked at Paige and started giggling.

"Not funny, little guy," Paige said. Tad craned his neck up to look at Happy, then burst into giggles again.

"You've got my sense of humor already," Happy said, bouncing him lightly. "I apologize."

Paige smiled at them, letting her look linger, and then she turned back toward Toby. "What do we do?" She hoped he understood the layers to her question. Most of her and Walter's problems either originated in or were exacerbated by the group. Ditto for him and Happy, and it was even the same for Sylvester and Florence. Allie didn't work with them. Her life with Cabe was almost entirely separate from them. If something was going wrong within Cabe and Allie, there was almost no way of finding it out. Not without getting really, really nosy, even for them.

"Not much that we can do," Toby said, his expression and tone telling her that he understood every bit of what she meant.

Paige pushed her hand up over her forehead and into her hair. "Ugh. It's Christmas. This isn't supposed to be happening."

Walter placed his hand on her back.

"What if it's just one of those normal funks people in long term relationships get into?" Ralph asked.

Paige looked at her son in surprise. "I didn't tell you we were worried about Cabe and Allie."

"It doesn't take half my I.Q. to notice what you all were doing all night," Ralph said. "I mean, I'm assuming. I don't have half my I.Q., so I suppose I can't really say for sure."

"Not to interrupt," Sylvester said, "and not to trivialize the Cabe and Allie issue…"

Paige noticed he and Florence both had their coats on. "Hot date tonight?"

"Very funny," Florence said. "We've still got to exchange Christmas gifts, and then he needs to be able to make the last bus."

The group exchanged hugs. Paige noticed that Happy hesitated before hugging the chemist – and she noticed that Florence noticed Happy's hesitation. Paige found that made her want to hug Florence tightly.

She noticed that Florence  _also_  noticed this. The poor woman was still so hyper sensitive to what the others thought of her. It made Paige not care about what today was – at least it made her care a lot less. Walter's hand still resting on her back helped a lot, too.

"Merry Christmas," Paige said, separating from the hug and holding the smaller woman at arm's length.

Florence gave her a small smile. "Merry Christmas, Paige."

* * *

"That was a nice party," Florence said as they entered her lab.

"It was," Sylvester said. "We have great holiday events when there is time to plan them. It was actually pretty rare that we didn't have a case this year."

"Sylvester?"

"Yeah?"

"I can tell when people are…thinking a certain way about me."

"Is this about Happy not wanting to hug you goodbye? I noticed that too. Maybe it was just because it's hard to hug when holding the baby and…"

"Not just that." She gulped. "You were…you were acting a way, too."

"I don't understand."

Florence sighed. "It was one year ago today that Walter had his dream. I know you're thinking about that."

His silence told her that she was right. "Sly, it's okay. I know it crossed the others' minds, too. Weirdly, I think Paige is actually the one who thought about it the least." She bit her lip. "And here I was assuming it was going to be her and Walter who acted the weirdest around me."

"I wasn't acting weird around you."

She sighed again. "Not weird, just…different."

"I'm sorry." He tipped his head. "Am I not supposed to think about it?"

"No, but why do you have to make me feel bad about it?"

"I wasn't aware I was doing that."

She stopped. "Okay. Maybe I'm overreacting. You just…you felt different tonight."

"It is hard to get past," Sylvester admitted. "But it wasn't  _your_  dream. And if it bothered me that much, I wouldn't be with you right now. I told Paige that, you know. Back when it did bother me that much."

"Told her what?"

"That I couldn't be with you, even if I ever thought that you would want to be with me. Because it was clear to me that I was a consolation prize. Clarify!" He said immediately, "that was just how I felt then. I was messed up then, it was around the same time I…we had that one case…"

Where he'd killed in self – defense. Florence reached out and touched his arm. "I hope you don't still think that."

"No," he said, putting his hand over hers. "No, I don't. There's just…always that little niggling in the back of my mind and it's so hard to get past and I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Lord knows I'm messed up. It's only fair that I'm okay with you being a little messed up, too."

"I love you," he said, touching her face gently. "And again. I know you aren't there. I don't want you to feel like I expect any response. But I know we both hate lies."

"Lies haven't gotten us anywhere good," she said, pressing her cheek against his hand. "And you don't need that disclaimer every time…but I appreciate it. Are you ready for your gift?"

"Of course."

She grinned. "Okay, well it's not…not something physical I can hand you. But you and your friends wanted a larger space to practice for your…cosplay…event…thing…" she blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I don't know the terms for all that stuff…" She shook her head. "I rented you that old music store. For the next three months."

Sylvester's eyes widened. "Treble Clef Press?"

She nodded.

A big grin came over his face. "Wow.  _Wow_."

"You like it?"

"You're amazing. What can I say?" He kissed her. "My gifts will pale in comparison, I fear."

"Oh, shut up. I'll love…wait,  _gifts_?" She raised her eyebrows. "Plural?"

He went over to where he'd left his bag earlier, pulling a smaller gift bag out of it. "Merry Christmas."

Florence took the bag and set it on the counter. "Do I open it now, or…"

"Yes, go ahead, who cares that it's Christmas Eve? You already gave me mine."

"Okay." She smiled at him as she removed the tissue paper. There was a mug inside, and she turned it over in her hands to read what it said. "You…ha ha," she put her hand to her mouth as her brain translated the skeletal diagram. "You  _ether_  understand organic chemistry or you don't." She glanced at Sylvester, who was grinning in the same sort of way he was when he'd made the precipitate joke almost a year ago, but this time with a lot more confidence, almost cockiness, that she would laugh.

It simultaneously made her not want to laugh and want to laugh even harder. The latter won out.

"Look at the other thing," he said, gesturing at the bag. Florence already knew it was a bottle of wine, but she pulled the bottle out and studied it. She'd mentioned, briefly and months ago, that there was one type of wine she liked. He had remembered. "Thank you, Sly," she said. She only drank when she was stressed, but she sure appreciated it when she was.

"I know you only drink when you're worried about something," Sylvester said. "But I thought, you know, chemically speaking alcohol  _is_  a solution, so…"

She raised her eyebrows. "You're a real funny guy, you know that?"

He shrugged. "You used to call my jokes clever, I did like clever."

She rolled her eyes. "Definitely clever too."

"See,  _now_  I think you're just saying that to humor me." Sylvester frowned and cocked his head. "What?"

Florence realized she'd been staring at him. Clearing her throat, she shook her head. "Nothing." She tapped his arm. "You're funny."


	11. Chapter 11

Happy tapped her foot against the coffee table. "Pick up, pick up." Another ring. "Pick up, dammit." At the next sound she heard through the phone, she tipped her head back and groaned.  _I don't want to leave a detailed message. I want you to answer your phone._  Hanging up, she immediately hit redial. "Answer your damn phone!"

"Hel-what?"

"Nothing, nothing," Happy said, clearing her throat. "Morning, Dineen."

"Good morning. Sorry, I'm driving and this new car is an absolute nightmare to get the hands free set up. You'd think it would get  _easier_."

"Uh huh. Hey, question."

"What's up?"

"I know this is last minute, but can you guys watch Tad for us this morning?" Happy asked. "We have to go meet with our lawyer, and he's been fussy, and I don't want to piss anybody off today."

"Sure!" Paige said. "Bring him to the garage? I'll be there in a few minutes."

"That works. Thank you."

Happy dropped the phone in her lap and gave a heavy sigh of reprieve. "Paige and Walter will watch him," she announced when Toby came back inside with Tad. "That's a relief, right?"

"Yes," Toby said. "Hap…you know that…that it's okay that he's fussy, right?"

"Of course," Happy said. "I just don't want to bother anyone at the office."

Toby settled on the couch next to her. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

It wasn't all. It both comforted and infuriated Happy that her husband knew what she was really worried about. "Let's get him in the car," she said brusquely, rising off the couch and grabbing her keys off the counter.

* * *

Paige was absolutely delighted to spend the morning with Tad, regardless of his apparent distress. "You don't worry about a thing," she assured Happy and Toby. "He is in good hands with us."

"I know that," Happy said, biting her lip. "That's why I called you."

Paige shifted Tad to her other arm and put a hand on Happy's shoulder. "Hey. He is in even better hands when he's with you."

"I don't know about that. We have to make them believe it, anyway."

Paige glanced past the mechanic and met eyes with Toby, who gave her a small, tight smile. Ah. So he had the same suspicions as her. Happy wasn't handing Tad off because she didn't want to inconvenience law office staff with a crying baby. She was worried that his crying would somehow tell everyone that she wasn't fit to be his mother.

"He's colicky, Happy," Paige said, "not neglected. Ralph was a horribly colicky baby. I swear Drew and I didn't sleep for months on end."

Another small smile, then Happy reached out, taking one of Tad's feet in her hands. She wiggled it, then backed away, eventually turning toward Toby and the two walked to the car with his hand on her back.

Paige turned to Walter beside her. "Well, we have three hours to try and make a happy baby, although sometimes with this you can't do much."

"Isn't he…a bit old to be doing this?" Walter held the garage door open for Paige and Tad.

"Most cases of colic have been resolved by the time a baby is three months old," Paige said. "Ralph was a very good baby. He didn't have colic at all, if you go by the Rule of Threes."

"The Wessell Criteria," Walter said.

Paige raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes. That is another name for what I was talking about."

"Sorry."

She bit her lip. "No, I was snippy for no reason. I thought you were being corrective."

"No. I was clarifying."

"Okay. I'm the one who is sorry, then."

"No, I'm sorry too. I was clarifying when I was almost positive that I knew what you meant. It was unnecessary. I did it again. I'm sorry."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Paige grunted and resumed. "Tad is older than the average baby for colic, but it's still not unusual to have it at his age. We're going to cuddle you all day long, yes we are," she said, changing her tone as she looked at the baby. She looked back at Walter. "He really is the cutest little thing, isn't he?"

"Mmm. He is an aesthetic delight, as far as babies go."

Paige patted Tad's back gently, then slung the bag Happy and Toby had brought off her shoulder. "Your mama said you've been fed and changed, so looks like it's snuggle time, huh?" Tad was making small sounds, but not full on crying.  _Yet, anyway,_  Paige thought. "Walter, you have a hot water bottle up in the loft. Can you go fill it, please?"

He nodded, taking off up the stairs, and Paige sat down on the couch, laying Tad so his feet were against her abdomen and his head at her knees, and slowly began to rub his stomach. "You'll be fine, little guy," she said affectionately. "You'll sort yourself out soon."

Tad made a little sound like "eh" several times in a row, and then started crying again.

Paige looked up when she heard Walter approach with the hot water bottle, and she lifted Tad back up. "Sit with him," she said. "Put that against you and let him rest with it next to his stomach." She handed Tad to Walter as he got into position on the couch. "It's not too hot, is it?"

"No," Walter said. His hands came protectively around Tad. Paige sat back down next to them, reaching over to run a finger along the side of Tad's face. "It's okay, Taddy."

Tad was still crying. "Did you know that colic is the number one killer of horses?" Walter asked. "They can't throw up. Their digestive system is so terrible it's a wonder they haven't gone extinct."

"Well, it's a good thing that Tad isn't a foal, then," Paige said. She scooted closer to them. "I remember watching that video of you guys rescuing him. I never thought that he would be in all of our lives."

"Mmm."

"It's incredible." She kissed his shoulder. "That was such a dark day, and yet something so wonderful came from it."

"Sylvester seems to have recovered fine from your situation," Walter said.

"I can tell he still gets shaky sometimes. But he knows we all love him, and he values our opinion on things, so he's coming to fully accept that he didn't do anything wrong. To tell the truth, though, I think part of it is he just tries not to think about it."

"Sometimes not thinking about something makes it easier," Walter said.

"Yeah."

Tad made a few more discomforting sounds, then fell into relative quiet. Paige beamed. "Walter, you've calmed him right down!" She placed her hand over his on the baby's back. "You're a natural. Either that, or he loves you." She kissed his cheek. "Maybe both." She frowned when she felt him stiffen. "Is something wrong?"

"Nope."

He was staring straight ahead. He was lying to her. "Walter."

He turned his head toward her, offering up a smile. "Nothing is wrong, my sweet."

Paige debated over whether or not to pry. She didn't want to ruin the moment they'd been sharing.  _But something you said clearly bothered him._  "Walter? Please talk to me."

"I can't."

"Walter." There was slightly more warning in her tone now, no, not warning, unease. Her own voice, months old, was rattling in the back of her head.  _Please just talk to me. Tell me what's going on._  She swallowed, putting a hand on his arm. "I want you to be comfortable telling me things."

"I am. Nothing's wrong."

"Okay." Her hand trailed upward, fingers lightly skimming Tad's hair. "I just don't want to say anything to make you feel uncomfortable. And I clearly did a minute ago."

Walter sighed. "If I tell you what's in my head, then you will feel uncomfortable. I would rather the discomfort be mine."

Well, now she  _really_  wanted to know. But would that be selfish? Paige felt a tightening in her chest – frustration, she recognized. He didn't want to burden her. That should be enough. But she didn't want to burden him, either…what was the balance? What was more of her motivation, the selfish need to know, or the selfless need to make him feel like he could tell her?

She sighed quietly. "I would like to know what bothered you. I would have thought it would make you happy that Tad seems to be so comfortable around you. If it doesn't, I want to know why. But I do appreciate you wanting to spare me any potential discomfort, even though I can't imagine what that might be-"

"I just, I thought…" Walter trailed off, letting out a quick breath through his nose as he faced forward again, adjusting his hands on Tad ever so slightly, securing him.

"Do you want more or less of this?" Paige asked, flexing her fingers on his arm. Sometimes it was easier for him to talk if she wasn't touching him. Sometimes he needed her touch to stay grounded.

"You're fine." He licked his lips. "A thought that I couldn't shake, can't shake, is if you and I hadn't broken up, if the teams hadn't split, if things had been different…maybe he would have been ours."

Paige was sure she stared at him an awkwardly long amount of time, but her brain refused to process what he'd said with any amount of efficiency. "Ours?" She asked incredulously, her voice quiet.

"I told you it was stupid."

"N-no." She moved her hand, rubbing his arm. "You thought about us..about us having a baby? Adopting a baby," she clarified when she realized how it sounded.

"I'd had those thoughts in my head since fairly early on in our romantic relationship," Walter said. "Happy knew about them. I knew it wasn't appropriate to tell you. It was far too early. But by the time…when this happened, we would have been together over a year. We would have worked that case together…" he trailed off again. "I boosted Florence up. The day we saved him. I sent her through a window into the room he was in and she freed him. Then she handed him down to me. Adrenaline was high, I wasn't thinking about anything but getting everyone out. But still, when I handed him off to Cabe – you would have seen him running from the house on the news – there was this little…this  _twinge_  I felt that I didn't even try to identify at the time. I realized later that I hadn't wanted to give him to Cabe. I wanted to save him all by myself. And I had attributed it to the way I get around kids. You know. Owen at Zuma, Olivia with the heart transplant." He took in a long breath. "Then you and I slept together just a couple days later. I had said it didn't have any impact on me. I knew it wasn't us getting back together, it was just about comfort. But it made me realize that I had been entertaining these…subconscious thoughts. About what might have happened with us, and him."

"I had no idea." Paige bit her lip.  _This is a lot of information._  "Though you know, Walt. If we had been one team, we all would have been in Arizona that day. That call came in hours before Aimee Tracker's place. Someone else would have saved Tad, if he got saved at all." Walter's hands tightened around the sleeping baby, instinctively, protectively. That made Paige feel, as Patty had said recently,  _some type of way._

"And Happy and Toby, being married and already wanting to adopt, even if we had all gone there, and you and I had been together, they would have been the ones to get him anyway. We hadn't been talking about marriage or kids at all."

"Maybe we would have by then."

"You're right. Maybe."

"God," Walter said, tipping his head back, "I ruined everything."

"What? No, no you didn't."

"I did."

"No."

"I know, I know. The breakup was both our faults. But-"

"That's right, it was. But we didn't ruin everything." Paige shifted, getting to her knees and facing him, knees pressing against his thigh. "Because we're here. We're together. We may have hit pause for a while, but something that exists can't have previously been ruined."

"It ruined our chances with him," Walter said quietly.

Paige didn't think she fully comprehended just how badly Walter wished Tad was his. Theirs.  _Ours._  But she could see the longing on his face, the regret in the way he held the boy. She also could see the road this would go down if his feelings were left unchecked. The tension between them and Quintis. The confusion for their friends' son. "I have no doubt that you will be his favorite uncle," Paige said.

"I know what you're thinking. I'm not going to sabotage the adoption like I did your Tahoe vacation."

"I wasn't thinking that," Paige said. "But I'm glad."

Tad shifted, giving a quiet grunt in his sleep. Walter smiled. "I'm glad he's safe, above all else. I'm glad he's safe."


	12. Chapter 12

The good news: the case they had been called on was just a few hundred miles from where the chemistry conference was going to be.

The bad news: they already had had a delayed start due to what Cabe called "bumbling bureaucracy" under his breath, and if they weren't able to get everything wrapped up by the following day, she and Sylvester might miss the event.

"I wouldn't worry about it," he said, busily towel drying his hair. "We did get a lot done today, and they even sprung for these nice rooms for us for tonight."

"Only because Happy and Toby had to stay back with Tad and so there was extra room in their housing budget,  _and_  only because our go – to person is mad at his boss and decided to use the entirety of the budget anyway, and…"

Sylvester flicked the towel at her. "We don't have to question everything."

"Yes we do. It's our nature." She had showered first and was already under the covers, her hair nearly dry. With the way his was sticking up every which way, it almost appeared as if he had more hair than her. She found that funny for reasons she really couldn't determine.

He crawled into bed next to her. "Well, let's at least be glad that the case is so close to your convention. If we were so far behind at a job in L.A., we would never make it there in time."

"Silver linings."

"No, no. Gold. Gold linings. This particular lining is very good."

She giggled. "Kiss me, Sly."

Sylvester grinned as he leaned over, and when his lips touched hers she could feel the smile on them. Lifting a hand, Florence placed it against his cheek, pressing her fingertips against his skin as she scooted closer. Sylvester rolled fully onto his side, resting a hand respectfully on her hip. His kiss sent a warm rush through her body, and she made a humming sound against his lips.

His hand moved slowly up and down, from between her shoulders to the small of her back and then over to rest on the outside of her hip again, then back to the small of her back, up to her shoulders, and back down, tracing the same path as before. After a half dozen or so passes, he didn't move his hand to the side, instead continuing lower and then pulling her closer.

Florence felt like she just might spontaneously combust.

Their lips separated briefly, both of them needing air, and having regained a level of lucidity and discovering the boldness that came with it, Florence dropped her head, pressing her lips to Sylvester's neck and feeling it when he took a sharp intake of breath. She focused on the same spot, her hand rubbing his chest over his under shirt, listening to his breathing for instruction. His free hand – the one that wasn't holding her against him by way of her backside, was wrapped around her, and as he adjusted his thumb came close to one of her breasts. Florence shuddered, a pleasant ache twisting in her gut. "Sylvester." She kissed his neck again. "Please touch me."

He seemed to understand what she meant, removing the lower of his hands and sliding it up between them. No one had ever touched her breasts in circumstances like this before, just in a medical sense, so she had no way of determining what, if any, experience he had by what he was doing. But  _God_ , this felt good. If he was as unexperienced with this as her, he either had a knack for it or she was just so far gone it didn't matter what he did, as long as he was touching her.

 _Or she was just so far gone._  The thought had passed so easily through her head, but what did she mean by it? Was it about the way her body was crying for contact with his, or about the way she was beginning to feel about him? Her subconscious clearly knew way more than she did; it was trying to tell her something, but she couldn't figure out just what.

Almost before she knew it, Sylvester had pushed her over to her back and moved closer to her again, leaning down to kiss her while his hand continued to work what she could only describe as absolute magic. She pushed her chest up against it, wanting more but not wanting to verbalize that, realizing that the moan that rushed from the back of her throat the next time their lips separated for air that sometimes thoughts could be quite clear even without words.

Sylvester's lips didn't immediately return to hers, and she realized just how hard both of them were breathing. His hand, still splayed over her breast, was still as he looked down at her. His pupils were dilated and she was sure that hers were the same way. She wanted to pull him back down, to keep kissing him, to hear more of those quiet groans he had clearly been trying to suppress, but she was out of breath and they hadn't  _talked_  about any of this and –

She cracked a grin, gesturing to his hand. "Second base. That's farther than I made it at the baseball game."

It took Sylvester a second, and then he gave a little snort, removing his hand and tugging her closer to him in a familiar and cuddly way. "You're adorable."

She kissed him, their lips meeting in a way that was much more chaste than only a minute before. "That was fun," she said, then immediately blushed. "Is that weird to say?"

"I don't think so," he replied. "It was fun. Kissing is nice. Kissing and all this other stuff is even more nice. Nicer? Actually, I don't care which it is. My point is,  _yes_ , that was fun."

"We should do it again sometime," she said, hoping her voice came out as obnoxiously casual as she wanted it to.

Sylvester rolled his eyes, a grin on his face. "Stop."

* * *

"Don't stop."

Walter had no intention of stopping, not with Paige's skin so flushed, her breathing so heavy, and her moans betraying how close she was oh so delightfully obviously. Some days he would tease her, come up for air and make some smartass comment like  _I think that's all for now_  just to get her writhing in frustration, but today was not one of those days. They'd been bantering, she'd gotten the upper hand, and she'd said that she "would never forget the day I beat Walter O'Brien in a battle of wits." He'd said he could make her forget. She'd dared him to try. And he'd spent far too long on his knees between the couch and coffee table, building her up to the point that she was already shaking, to not sweep her over the edge and make her unable to remember her own name, much less her clever comebacks. When he got to his feet and then dropped down next to her on the couch, he thought he'd been successful, because she was still trembling so visibly someone unfamiliar to her might think something was wrong. He rubbed the leg closest to him soothingly, guiding her through the aftershocks. "So," he said, kissing her shoulder – or rather the soft material of the shirt covering her shoulder – "do you remember what we were fighting about?"

"We weren't fighting."

"Fair enough. Poor choice of words. Do you remember what we were engaging in lively debate about?"

"Yep."

"What?"

Paige was quiet. "Uh…"

"Ha." He snapped his fingers at her. "I knew it."

"Details, details," Paige said. "It was philosophy related and I was kicking your ass."

"Still. You forgot for a moment there. So I win."

"I was still smarter than you today."

"Um, excuse you…" Walter wracked his brain for a good comeback.

She grinned. "I wouldn't be opposed to you making me forget again."

He raised his eyebrows. "And what's in that for me, exactly?"

She shrugged. "After we can switch positions and I'll make you forget about all your terrible arguments."

Walter slid back off the couch. "It sounds like a deal to me."


	13. Chapter 13

"That went really well," Toby said, grabbing Happy's hand and swinging it as they walked. "Taddy Bear will be officially ours before we know it."

'Taddy Bear' was currently strapped to Happy, sleeping soundly despite the chill in the air. She smiled, squeezing his hand. "I'm almost afraid to embrace how smooth this process has been."

Toby stopped walking, and when his wife stopped as well, he leaned around the baby to kiss her. "Oh, my love," he said, a smile on his face. "All our dreams are coming true."

"Cabe."

He frowned. "What?"

Happy gestured, and Toby looked back over his shoulder. "Cabe and Allie."

"Oh." He might have missed them if they had just kept walking. They were sitting on the patio of a bistro just a few yards ahead. Toby frowned. "Cabe looks very serious."

"He's not monitoring the Florida case as closely as he said he was going to, so this had _better_ be important."

Toby tugged at Happy's hand. "Let's duck down behind this wall, then we can peer."

"Oh yay, peering," Happy said. "Just what I was hoping would be our afternoon plans."

"Shhh." Toby dropped down. The wall was a few feet high, more for decoration than anything else, and between the wall and Cabe and Allie was a hedge, allowing them to stay out of sight and still watch the table.

"Out with it, Gallo," Allie was saying, looking slightly confused.

Cabe sighed. "Do you still love me?"

"Oh, shit," Toby whispered to Happy.

Allie gave him an incredulous look. "What?"

"I just mean…" Cabe leaned forward slightly, "it seems like lately when it comes to the more…romantic sides of things, we're just…going through the motions. And in the interest of open honesty, that scares me a little bit. Because I don't want to lose you. Ever."

"Watch her have no idea what he's talking about and it gets super awk," Happy said. Tad squirmed in her arms.

"Hey, buddy," Toby said, leaning down to be eye level with the baby, "stay quiet and you can have the pear mush instead of the green bean mush for dinner."

"He needs his vegetables, Toby."

"I mean, we agreed not to fall into a good cop, bad cop dynamic, but you're certainly embracing the bad cop role here."

"Shh," Happy hissed. "I'm missing what they're saying."

"I'm just saying," Cabe said. "You have to agree that there's not as much of a spark as there used to be. Things are different, and I think we need to talk about it."

"Toby put you onto this, didn't he?"

"No. I mean. I mean I was coming to the same conclusion myself. And – "

Allie sighed. "I know there's no privacy in that family, but I have to admit it makes me a little uncomfortable that you're discussing our  _private lives_  with them, Cabe."

"Doc is the best at what he does. Wouldn't you rather I talk to him than someone who doesn't know us well enough to really speak on what would help us? Someone who has their clinical answers all prepared and just feeds textbook material at us?"

"Well, now he's just crapping all over my profession," Toby said.

"Toby," Happy said, "stay quiet and I'll feed Tad the mush even though it's your night."

"I didn't even know you thought there was a problem," Allie said. "How am I supposed to know what I would rather do in a situation I wasn't aware existed?"

Cabe looked surprised. "You…you haven't been…you didn't think…"

Allie sighed. "Yes and no, I suppose."

"Okay. Now we're getting somewhere."

"I'm tired, Cabe. You're tired. We've been through a lot this past year, together and individually…I think when we're tired, it's harder to get…to get as into things." Allie reached across the table and put a hand on his. "I don't want to make insensitive comparisons. But you have told me about how you have been less motivated during harder times in your life."

"I've been more motivated during those times," Cabe said. "I couldn't stop. Because if I stopped, I…I would think."

"Well, as I said, this is different. We're mentally and physically strung out. We're not as young as we used to be." Allie squeezed his hand. "It took me a long time to learn this, Cabe, but sometimes it's okay to just go through the motions for a while. Though if it's bothering you…it is good to be proactive. I wonder if maybe we should start seeing someone."

"You mean like a shrink?"

"Toby isn't the only good psychiatrist out there, you know." Allie smiled. "I was thinking something like a couple's counselor."

Cabe looked alarmed.

"I don't mean…I don't think we're in trouble. Not at all. I don't want to lose you any more than you want to lose me. I'm just saying…maybe patch the windshield when a little stone hits it, because there's no point in busting out the epoxy when you've got a shatter on your hands."

"Huh."

Allie cocked her head. "Huh what?"

"Just…the windshield metaphor. I used something very similar on Florence last fall."

She smiled. "Let's go. Before anything becomes a problem. Then maybe there won't ever be one."

* * *

Florence Tipton had used her share of gross showers. They weren't always clean at the gym. High school locker rooms were even worse,  _god_  she still had trauma flashbacks from the mandatory P.E. credit, and once she even had to use the  _boy's_ locker room  _after the football players_.

But she had to admit that this makeshift shower in the middle of nowhere, that was basically a hose strung up over a circular slab of concrete at the edge of the woods was probably one of the least pleasant shower situations she'd ever encountered.

But she had no choice, unless she'd wanted to drive the four hours to the convention center covered in mud.

Their case had involved someone army crawling approximately two hundred feet into a cave to reestablish a closed circuit that would allow lost and disoriented researchers to see on their way out. "We need someone tiny," their employer had said. Three heads had turned toward the chemist.

The hardest part of the job had been turning around to shimmy back out, but Florence would still be quite alright if she never had to squeeze into such a tight space again. On one of her previous Wikipedia adventures, she'd discovered Floyd Collins. No thank you. That had led to her ordering the book by Murray and Brucker.  _Extra_  no thank you.

It was a good book. But still.  _No thank you._

Florence stepped out of the shower and clothed herself with the items provided by the nearby scout camp – probably lost and found from the previous summer, since nothing matched. The sweatpants were gray with purple lettering –  _Camp Shumard, est. 1989_ , and the tee shirt was pink with  _Troop 119_  on the front. They'd also provided rainbow striped toe socks.

Beggars, Florence supposed, couldn't be choosers.

She would only have to wear this until they stopped for fuel, anyway. She had her luggage. She could change in the gas station bathroom.

As she approached the others waiting in the parking lot, and when Sylvester caught sight of her and gave a casual smile and wave, she became extra glad that he was nothing like Toby, because she just about guaranteed the behaviorist would have some sort of camp counselor fetish.

"We've got the payment already," Paige said as Florence approached. "Ervil was right. 'Faster than the little lady can shower'. Note," she clarified, turning to Florence, "this is not me throwing shade at your shower speed. He just…he legit sent us the money already. And I am impressed and grateful, because I'm hoping to pay off the condo this week."

"Hey, congratulations," Sylvester said.

Paige grinned. "Thank you!"

"Let me know when you make the final payment," Walter said. "I would love to bring dinner over."

"Sounds good. Ralph's back in school and although he doesn't have class Friday he's hanging out with some of his friends Thursday night, so want to plan for Friday?"

Walter kissed her on the cheek. "Sounds like a plan."

"Well," Sylvester said, rubbing his hands together slowly, "I would love to stay and preemptively celebrate Paige being a condo-owner, but my girlfriend and I have a convenposium to go to."

"A what?" Paige asked.

"Convention. Symposium. Convenposium. You see how it works."

Florence rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on," Sylvester said, "you said that was clever yesterday."

"I didn't realize you were going to keep using it," she razzed.

"Is this…is this a time where…" Walter snapped his fingers, glancing at Paige.

"Yes, that's appropriate."

" _Yes_!" Walter made a triumphant fist.

It was Paige's turn to kiss him on the cheek. "I'm so proud."

"I can sense the amusement in your voice, but I'm going to take the compliment anyway."

Sylvester had already gone to their rental car, and with a small wave at Walter and Paige, Florence joined him, hopping into the driver's seat. "God, I'm freezing."

"We can turn the heat on," Sylvester said, although his voice and sweaty brow betrayed how he actually felt about that idea.

"In Florida? Not even in the winter," she said. "It's even worse than California heat here."

"There is nothing wrong with California heat."

"Definitely not when you compare it to this heat. It's so muggy. I can't imagine what it's like in the summer." Florence shivered one more time. "That was just really cold water. Despite the conditions I can't imagine ever feeling warm again. Shut up and let me be dramatic," she said when he rolled his eyes.

"I didn't say anything."

"No, but don't look at me in that tone of voice."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Whatever." She started up the car, looking over at him and smiling.

He smiled back, then cocked his head. "Something up?"

"No," she said, letting her eyes linger for just a moment longer before putting the car in drive and focusing on the road.


	14. Chapter 14

Florence had just succeeded in jimmying a stuck Snickers bar out of a vending machine when she and Sylvester heard someone calling her name. They turned in unison to see a group of four walking toward them: a man, a very tall woman, and two other women closer to Florence's height.

Sylvester watched as Florence gave each of them awkward hugs, with only the tall woman seeming comfortable with the greeting. Considering easily had a foot on Florence, it made the encounter awkward nonetheless. He figured she was probably glad she was no longer wearing the mismatched Girl Scouts outfit.

"Florence. I was so pleased to receive your e-mail stating you were coming!" Said the man. "I hope you've noticed my English has improved immensely since the last time we saw each other."

"Your English has always been perfectly fine, Duscha," Florence said. "My Spanish is, I'm sure, just as horrendous as it was in Illinois."

Duscha gave a chuckle, and Florence suddenly seemed to realize not everyone had been introduced. "Oh," she said, retreating a step and putting a hand on Sylvester's back. "This is Sylvester. Sylvester, this is Tara Bondy, Dr. Dana Graham, Dr. Chana Wolowitz, and Duscha Perez," Florence said, gesturing to each person as she spoke their name. "They're currently doing work on sustainable ammonia production, and Dana also leads a committee working to increase visibility of female and nonbinary chemists."

"Chana Wolowitz," Sylvester said. "You won the Charles Goodyear medal, didn't you?"

"I did," she said. "The second woman ever, right after Judit Puskas."

"Congratulations," Sylvester said. "What an honor."

"I consider the accomplishment greater than the honor," she replied, "but thank you."

Florence coughed and cleared her throat. "Tara, how's the family?"

"Excellent. My mom and wife's work has made massive leaps forward in the past year. There's talk of nominations for a Nobel." Tara gave a little laugh. "Joan jokes that she may have the most successful relationship with a mother in law in the history of the universe."

"Oh Tara," said Dana Graham, "you're just as brilliant a mind as either of them. I can easily see a Nobel Prize in your future as well."

"Successful family," Sylvester commented.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Duscha said, "Florence, you've told us Sylvester's name, but not who he is. He works for you, I assume."

"Oh, no," Florence said with a laugh, "he's my boyfriend. We also work for the same company out in Los Angeles."

"Right. Right." Tara nodded. "You work for that computer place that was called out to that fire at the foster home."

 _Dear God_ , Sylvester thought. Surely that wasn't the  _only_  context through which they'd heard about Scorpion?

"They also created that fake uterus for a premature deer," said Chana. "It was referenced in a podcast I was listening to on the internet. Florence, that was Scorpion, right?"

"It was," she said. "Before my time, though."

"That was fascinating," Chana said. "You could probably win some sort of award capitalizing on that. Search and rescue situations, natural disasters, it could benefit from mobilizing that technology and making it more accessible."

"We don't really look for – " Sylvester cut off when Florence stepped on his foot.

"So…" Tara said. "Sylvester. I don't believe I've heard of you, though I do focus more on the accomplishments of women in this field. What is it that you do? I'm sure it's fascinating and I'm always ready and willing to go down another rabbit hole of study."

"Oh, my strength is mathematics," Sylvester said. "Statistics, probabilities."

"They call him a human calculator," Florence said proudly.

"Ah. So not a chemist."

"No. Though I'm familiar with it."

"Tell them your chemistry joke," Florence said, lightly jabbing his arm with a finger.

"Oh." Sylvester cleared his throat. "When it comes to problems, if you're not part of the solution, you're part of – "

"The precipitate," Florence's four friends chorused.

"Everyone has heard that joke," Duscha said, giving an amused laugh.

Tara gave Florence a knowing look, then looked back at Sylvester. "She must  _really_  like you, homeboy."

"May be the fresh meat, too," Tara said. "Are we sure he's at least eighteen?"

Sylvester could tell that the jesting was light hearted, but he suddenly felt an urge to impress. He searched his brain. "Well, I have a lot of friends who find that joke funny, you know?"

Dana raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yep. There's…" he took in a deep breath, hoping his mediocre singing skills wouldn't totally fail him, "antimony, arsenic, aluminum, selenium, and hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and rhenium, and nickel, neodymium, neptunium, germanium, and iron, americium, ruthenium, uranium…"

He paused for breath. "Europium, zirconium, lutetium, vanadium, and lanthanum and osmium and astatine and radium, and gold, protactinium and indium and gallium, and iodine and thorium and thulium and thallium. There's yttrium, ytterbium, actinium, rubidium, and boron, gadolinium, niobium, iridium, there's strontium and silicon and silver and samarium, and bismuth, bromine, lithium, beryllium, and barium…"

He stopped to take another breath, and realized two things – how ridiculous his lead up to the song was, and how perplexed the four appeared as they silently regarded him.

Chana Wolowitz turned to Florence. "Well. He is cute when he tries."

"We have to get to Dr. Ali Kahn's demonstration, and we want to eat first" Dana said, "but it was great to see you, Florence. And good to meet you Sylvester. Making the Ice Queen break down a little bit."

"Great to see you, Lady," Duscha said, raising a hand as they began to move off.

"Yeah, you too," Florence said. She watched them go, rounding the corner, then turned to Sylvester.

"So – "

Florence grabbed his arm and started walking. "Come with me."

He followed her, letting her half lead, half drag him to the end of the vending machines, and then around the corner. No people were milling about back here. He was about to ask her where she was taking him when she whirled around, grabbed the front of his sweater, and pulled him down low enough so she could mash her lips to his.

Sylvester was startled, but he kissed her back, wrapping a hand around hers as it still gripped his shirt and putting the other one on her side. She pulled back, grinning up at him. "Busting out that song? That was hot."

Sylvester felt suddenly cocky. "Oh? You like that, huh?" She giggled, reaching up for him, and he leaned down to kiss her again. "I'm taking that as a yes."

"You may take that as a yes," she said with a grin. "Now, do you want to go to Dr. Kahn's demo with me?"

"Are you asking me out?"

"You may also take  _that_  as a yes."

* * *

Their hotel room only had one bed, but by this time they were used to sharing. She'd spent more than one night at his apartment, and he would soon be unable to count the number of times he'd slept in her bed unless he was barefoot or wearing sandals. Which wasn't that often. But still.

"I think my friends liked you," Florence commented, glancing up from her laptop.

"…they did?"

"Oh yeah, that's  _like_  for them."

"They all seem very esteemed."

"They are. They're nice people and they genuinely want to help women advance in science, which obviously, that's an important cause. But they also consider success based on letters after your name, or medals or awards. They're very driven for accolades because they feel that's the only way to truly be taken seriously. And I know I baffle them in that way, that I've basically given up that life to work for Scorpion."

He sat on the edge of the bed. "Do you ever want to go back to that?"

"Not really. I like the work I do now. I like the people I work with now. You remember how I was when we met. I am naturally like that, at least somewhat. That life brought it out of me. It's competitive and there's not much room for anything else. It encouraged me to bottle up and be defensive, which fit right into my wheelhouse anyway. I'm sure there was more to it than that but I mean, I'm not the best at the whole self – reflection thing." She closed the laptop. "That's why Scorpion is so good for me. It's why you're good for me. Everything about my life now encourages me to be better, instead of validating my flaws."

"I think you're better at the self – reflection thing than you think you are."

Florence came over and sat beside him. "You make me feel comfortable, Sly."

He ran a hand slowly up and down her back, trying to think of a response, but all he could do was smile. Their eyes locked, and he wasn't sure how much time had passed when he noticed how intensely she was blushing.

_I'm not her consolation prize._

The realization was the very thing that made him grasp that deep down, that doubt had still been there, even after everything. He'd caught that doubt on his radar one last time, as it was on its way out.

They were going to be okay.


	15. Chapter 15

"Hey, babe." Paige walked up behind the couch and wrapped her arms around Walter's neck.

"Hey." He put down his iPad. "Did you have a good lunch?"

"Mmm hmm. It was weird to see her after so long. It's like every time I think Nemo's is behind me, one of the other waitresses pop up behind me in the grocery store."

"That's happened once."

"Well, still. Odds, and all that."

"Uh – huh."

"It's weird," Paige said, going around the couch to sit next to him. "All of them are still there. All the ones that were there when I quit, anyway. They're all stuck. And I got out." She shook her head. "You swooped in and plucked me from the sad drum beat I would have been marching to forever more."

"No," Walter said casually.

She cocked her head. "You think Ralph and I would have ended up okay without you? Because I call bull."

"Also no," he said. "You and Ralph would have been suffering as you were, just as I would be, too. I didn't come in there and save you. You two haven't saved me. We were just a family unit that finally found all of its people."

Paige blinked. "Wow. That's…that's really insightful. And sweet." She kissed him. "Walter, I can't get over that. I love it."

"And I love you." He kissed her again.

She sighed happily. "Hey, can I talk to you about something?"

Her tone was easy, relaxed, but Walter felt a slight twinge of anxiety. "Did I – "

"Walter." She put her finger to his lips. "Please stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Walking on eggshells around me."

"I just don't want to make mistakes."

"You're going to. So am I. Big whoop. We can't constantly be afraid of messing up. We just have to be conscious of the possibility."

"Okay."

"I want to talk to you about what you said about Tad, the other week, before Florida."

"Okay."

"You were thinking of our future together," she said. "You were  _always_  thinking of that. I don't know that I ever realized how much, even after we talked in Europe."

"I still took you for granted," Walter said, "at least a little bit. But that is correct: I was always thinking of us going forward. I don't even know how to process a future without you in it. I tried to figure that out when we were apart, but it didn't work. If I really was a robot, I might have been saying  _does not compute._ "

Paige gave a little laugh, snuggling closer. "I love that you think about those things."

"Mmm."

The silence that followed didn't feel uncomfortable, just easy. It was the kind of silence that existed between people who just enjoyed being near each other. But it didn't last. Paige had too much on her mind. Too much she wanted to say. "Hey, Walt?"

"Yeah."

"The thing you told me. About Tad." She lifted her head from where it had been nestled into the crook of his neck. "Do you want children?"

Walter took in a long, slow breath, letting it out just as agonizingly deliberately. "I do. I mean, I have Ralph. Not…not to be presumptuous…"

"You have Ralph," Paige said firmly. "Even if we weren't…us anymore. You would always have Ralph."

"Yes. Well, also, yes, I would like…love…it if we…" He sighed.

"We can."

"I should not have let myself fantasize about Tad," Walter said. "Every time I think about it, my mind goes to him."

"Would you rather adopt? I don't mean now. It's too early. But…one day."

"Paige," Walter said, "I would rather have  _you_  than anything else. I got attached to Tad. I don't want you to think I'm fixated on being a parent." He kissed her cheek. "But if we were, it doesn't matter to me. Biological or adopted. Adoption shouldn't be seen as just an alternative to people who can't have children. It isn't lesser."

She smiled warmly. "More people need the heart that you have, Walter O'Brien." She affectionately rubbed her nose against his cheek. "I think I might like to be pregnant again, though, if we ever come to that."

"We should probably be married first."

She laughed, but he saw her blush. "This isn't 1950, Walter."

"No. But I just mean…if children are years off…I would like to think we would be married in a few years. Wouldn't you?"

"I…" she was looking at him intensely, as if trying to decide if he was serious. "I would," she said. She was trying to play it cool. He could tell.

Walter slid off the couch to the floor in front of her, putting both hands on her knee. "I don't have a ring, obviously," he said, "since this just came up. And maybe I'm crazy. Maybe it's way too early for even this. But I know a lot of things, Paige, and  _we_  are the most objective fact I can think of. I want you regardless of if kids are in our future. So. Will you marry me?"

She put her hand up over her mouth. "Are you serious?"

Her eyes were shining. She didn't think this was stupid. Walter grinned. "I'm serious."

She dropped down to the floor next to him. "Then Hell yeah."

* * *

"I need to cram my purse into this bag to keep it free to bring on board," Florence said, making a fist and repeatedly punching the top of her duffle. "I have so many papers from the past few days. And then when I had breakfast with Chana, she was clearing out her own purse and I managed to obtain some of her crap. She gave me a tube of Chapstick and a condom. I'm hoping she was not suggesting I utilize both those for the same thing."

Sylvester laughed. "We may need the Chapstick where we're going. With the cold and all. Wait." He held up a hand. "Is it…unused?"

"Oh yes. Still with the plastic around it."

"Good. That's acceptable."

A flight attendant's voice came over the intercom, and both Sylvester and Florence fell silent to listen. The announcement was not about their flight.

"We should probably call and let them know we may not be back tonight," she suggested.

"Good idea," Sylvester said. "Let me dial Walter."

Florence uncrossed her legs and recrossed them the other way. Sitting on the floor outside of a gate was not the  _least_  comfortable situation she'd ever been in, but it definitely wasn't fun.

"Hey Walt," Sylvester said, and Florence almost jumped when she heard him answer back. "Sly, no speaker in front of all these people."

"No one is that close to us," Sylvester protested.

"Hello?" It was the third time Walter said it, Florence realized. "Sorry. We're here."

"Is something the matter?"

"Not really," Sylvester said. "Just wanted to update you. We're on a delay, and our plane might get diverted. Bad weather, the shutdown, all those factors."

"Just be careful if you get diverted somewhere cold," Walter said. "It's ass eating season."

Florence choked on her water. Simultaneously, Sylvester coughed. "What?"

"It's winter. There's ice everywhere. You don't want to eat ass."

"Walter," Sylvester said. "Who told you that that's what that meant?" He raised his voice. "Paige, are you there?"

"Easy," Walter said. "I'm not on speaker and I would like to be able to hear when I'm fifty."

"Walter," Florence said, "just…just know that's not what that means, okay?"

"Fine, fine," he said. "Not sure what else it could mean, but okay. You will keep us up to date on your travel?"

"Yep," Sylvester said. "Hopefully we will be home by tomorrow evening at the latest."

"Good. Oh – was the…did you have a good time?"

"We did," Sylvester said. "We did."

"We absolutely did," Florence echoed. Her eyes met Sylvester's over the phone. She opened her mouth, and then remembered Walter was listening. She closed it again.


	16. Chapter 16

Paige was in a good, good mood.

Sylvester and Florence had finally gotten home the previous night, two days late, and Walter had insisted she pick them up from the airport. She realized as soon as the three of them had gotten back that it had been a ruse to get her out of the garage. She walked into a mini, only partially impromptu engagement celebration dinner. Allie had cooked, and as delicious as her food was, that wasn't even the best part. Everyone was there – even Patty. Their whole family, together in one place, celebrating everything being more okay than any of them ever would have dared to dream about nine months ago.

Then they'd gone home, Paige had given Ralph a movie with lots of loud noises to watch, and her and Walter had had their thorough ways with each other until the skies were starting to lighten up again. She'd only had about four hours of sleep, but she hadn't felt this good in months.

"Mom? Can I have bus money?"

Paige looked up from the magazine she was reading – wedding themed, because  _of course_  – and smiled at her son. "Why?"

"For the bus."

Paige rolled her eyes. "Your odds of me financing whatever your plans are for today will continue to go down if the smart mouth stays."

"I'm going to the movies with some friends."

"Which friends? That's not – " She added quickly, realizing how it sounded. "I'm not helicoptering, I don't care which friends, I'm just curious."

"Owen, Sable, Brianna, and Trent."

Paige handed Ralph a twenty – dollar bill. "Probably best to just get a day pass since I'm sure you guys will go out to eat afterward. Owen ask Trent out yet?"

"Not yet."

"Maybe today, then."

"Maybe not. Not in front of everyone."

"What movie are you going to see?"

"Serenity. Brianna and Owen have both been yakking about it. I heard it was pretty bad, though."

"Brianna is the one I took home a while back, right?"

"Yeah."

"She seems like a sweetheart," Paige said. "Shame her parents seem to be so terrible."

"Yeah, from what she says they're a real suck fest." Ralph put the money into his pocket. "I appreciate it, Mom."

"Text me when you're on your way home, please."

"I will." Ralph hugged her. "I love you."

"Love you, too, baby."

Ralph had been gone nearly an hour when Paige realized he had lied to her.

* * *

Florence perched on her coffee table, crossing her ankles. "Ah, the glorious sound of the dryer," she joked at a buzzing noise from the back of the lab. "Filthy clothes are clean."

"I wouldn't call them filthy," Sylvester said with a laugh. "We had enough clothing that we really just had to re-use pants."

"Yeah, but you know I don't like wearing dirty clothes and I  _know_  you don't."

"You're right. But I'm trying to get better about stuff like that. And it's not like we were wearing the stuff we'd worn in Florida. We weren't sweating in the snowstorm."

"True true. My clothes from the camp in Florida were too muddy to re-wear anyway. Oh. That reminds me, I'll have to mail that Girl Scout outfit back to them."

"I really don't think that's necessary," Sylvester said. "They said it was old stuff that hadn't been picked up from the lost and found bin."

"Okay, but when am I ever going to wear any of that stuff?"

"Then donate it."

"You know," she said, "at first I was thinking it's a good thing I'm not dating Toby because he would probably have a thing for camp counselor outfits, but now I'm wondering if that's not universal among the Scorpion men."

"Walter doesn't have a –  _I_  don't have a thing for camp counselors," Sylvester said indignantly. "I'm just saying, they were probably glad to be rid of the extra clothing." He dropped to his knees and grinned at her. "I'm not saying you  _looked bad_  wearing that. I think you always look cute, though, so I'm a bit biased. I also tend to go for older women, so I mean, the counselor aesthetic isn't my top thing."

"Oh please do not make me feel like a cougar."

"That's the new Shania Twain song," he said.

She cocked her head. "Huh?"

"You know,  _Man! I Feel Like A_ …no? Okay."

"You're the cute one," Florence said, a crooked smile on her face.

He looked at her with a combination of surprise and flattery. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She reached up and touched his face. He leaned in slightly, and she closed the gap between their mouths, kissing him tenderly and sliding her hand back around into his hair. She felt his hands on her legs, resting there gently, then one slid up to her side, holding her near him even though there was nowhere for her to go in this position, sitting on the low table with him in front of her. It was weirdly intimate.

Florence liked that. A lot.

She deepened the kiss, grabbing his shirt and tugging him closer to her. He waddled forward on his knees, wrapping both arms around her waist. Florence whimpered at the contact; she was craving more of it and she slid a hand down and underneath his shirt. Sylvester's lips hummed against hers.

Then he slid a hand upward, trailing his fingers over one of her breasts, and even though there were multiple layers of clothing between his hand and her skin, Florence felt his touch throughout her body.  _God._  Her libido was what some would probably call painfully low,  _in hibernation_ was the way her one traitor friend Lester had referred to it when she'd told him about ten times she wasn't interested in hooking up, but even things that hibernated were awake some of the time.

And if she was committed to the hibernation metaphor, those animals were usually  _ravenous_  when they woke up.

She broke their kiss, her lips searching for the spot on his neck that had made him shudder before, and when she found it she moved her tongue in the same way her thumb was currently working his nipple. Sylvester tensed, and she heard a quiet moan near her ear. She smiled internally.

But then his hand was doing the same thing it had done to get  _her_ all worked up previously, and she squeezed her eyes shut and sucked hard at the skin on his neck to stay quiet herself. Sylvester let out a loud breath, gently pushing her back into an upright position and backing slightly away.

Her eyes came open in surprise. "Wh – " She searched his face. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. God no," he said. "We're just…we're getting close to that stopping point."

"What if we didn't stop?"

She'd been thinking those words, but it surprised her when she said them out loud. Sylvester looked startled too, opening his mouth and then closing it again, as if his brain refused to send down the words he wanted. "I mean…" Florence blurted, stopping because she realized she didn't know what she wanted to say either.

"Do you want to – "

His question wasn't accompanied by a look of discomfort. He didn't look opposed.  _Screw it._  "Yeah," she said, her voice quiet. "I do."

"I do, too."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "You make me feel things, Lori," he said. "The idea of acting on them is…less scary than not acting on them is frustrating."

She nodded. "I know what you mean."

"Are you completely sure, though?"

"Absolutely. About more than just this."

He tipped his head to the side. "What's the more?"

She shrugged, giving him a smile. "Something changed at that convention, Sly. It was like walking from a muggy Orlando afternoon into air conditioning."

"Our relationship is a muggy Orlando afternoon to you?" He asked, pretending to be offended.

"You know what I mean," she said with an affectionate chuckle. "Clarity. Like this is one hundred percent where we're supposed to be." She cocked an eyebrow. "Now should I take off my bra, or do you do it? I'm not clear on protocol when it comes to foreplay."

That made Sylvester laugh out loud. "And you're looking to  _me_  for advice?"

Florence laughed, slipping her arms out of her sleeves and reaching behind her to unhook her bra. Sylvester began to slide a hand up from her hip, and she reached out and placed her hand over it. "Um…"

"What?"

"Are you comfortable with…can you use your mouth?"

 _Dear Lord_  and she thought it was otherworldly what he could do with his  _hands._  Florence leaned back, bracing herself with her hands, clenching her teeth in an effort to not make any noise. Eventually, though, that was impossible, and the sound that forced its way out made her realize just how close she was to coming apart just from this.  _How embarrassing that would be._  Especially for their first time.  _God, no._

So she stopped him. "Take off your pants."

"Only if you do, too."

It was a ridiculous joke, but she laughed anyway as she lifted her hips and turned her leggings inside out with her feet as she used them to pull the garments off.

"Oh no," Sylvester said. "We don't have – "

"Yes we do!" She said, just realizing. "Chana gave me one. With the chaptstick, remember?"

"Oh!" His eyes widened.

Florence felt behind her for her bag, tugging it up and searching through it hurriedly. Locating the condom, she handed it to Sylvester. "I'm assuming you'd rather do this part yourself."

She adjusted her position on the table, lifting up one leg and resting the heel against the edge. He should have room like this, she thought. She ran a hand through her hair.

"Florence?"

"Yeah?"

"How…do you want to do this?"

"Come here," she said, urging him close to her. She didn't have lube, and based on her peripheral vision she feared she might need it. But  _maybe_  not. "Go really,  _really_  slow," she said.

Sylvester nodded, positioning carefully and then moving forward at a pace that was almost laughably slow if she wasn't grateful for it. Their eyes were locked in on each other; she could see the concern in his eyes, watching her for any sign of discomfort. "I'm okay," she said. "Just keep like this."

"Okay." He kissed her.

Florence pressed her hand against the back of his neck, her forehead against his, both of them making an effort to measure their breathing. Even with the slow pace, her body was so lit up from everything else they'd been doing that she strongly suspected she wouldn't need much more than this. "Sly."

"Hmm?"

"Faster…just a little bit." She angled her head down to kiss him. She took one of his hands, moving it back up to her breast. She swore it was barely a minute later that she gasped and trembled around him.

The change was almost immediate. "Stop! Stop."

He did, immediately. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts. "That made me a little…sensitive down there."

"You need to stop?"

She nodded.

Okay. Sylvester shuffled backwards. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah," she nodded. "Oh yeah." She smiled. "Come here, let me…"

"Let you what? Oh," he said when she reached for him. "You don't have to – "

"All my friends lost their virginities to partners who didn't care if they got theirs," Florence said. "I refuse to be that person. Now kiss me while I do it or it's just weird."

Sylvester laughed, and when he put his mouth back on hers, she could still feel the smile against her lips.


	17. Chapter 17

"You guys all seem deep in thought," Cabe said. "What's going through your minds?"

"I don't know about these guys," Toby said, "but  _I've_  been thinking about, what if the word nipples had a silent g in front of it? You know," he added when he was met with astounded silence, Walter and Florence turning from the chalkboard they stood at to stare, "like 'gnome'."

Cabe continued to stare. "Walt?" He said, spinning ninety degrees. "What are  _you_  thinking about?"

"I  _was_  thinking about synesthesia," Walter said. "But now I'm thinking you could put a silent p in front of the n, too. Like pneumonia."

"Dear Lord in Heaven." Cabe scratched the back of his head. "Well anyway, I wanted to let you guys know that – " He paused when the garage door opened. "Hey, Paige, Sylvester. You guys…" he cocked his head. "You guys come together?"

"Nah. Met at the door," Paige said. She tossed her jacket on the coat rack. "What are we discussing?"

"Whether or not the word nipples should have a silent g or a silent p at the front of it," Toby said.

"That's not what we were – " Cabe started.

"What about a silent k? As in knee?" Paige suggested, crossing the room to give Walter a peck on the cheek.

"Or an m," Florence piped up. "You know, like mnemonic."

She and Paige high fived.

"Well there's a sight I never thought I'd see," Cabe commented. "Well, I'll take this weird conversation if it means you two are friends."

"Hold on," Walter said. He picked up a piece of chalk. "Does that mean that…" he scribbled something, "this is pronounced 'nipples'?"

The word on the board was spelled G-K-P-M-N-I-P-P-L-E-S."

"Okay," Cabe said, "is it really the case that  _no one_  else is uncomfortable right now?"

"You know, you'd think I would be," Paige said, "but now I think I'm only going to spell it with a silent k."

"Silent g," Toby said.

"Silent p!" "Silent m!" Florence and Walter argued at the same time.

"I have no contribution to whatever this is," Sylvester said. "What's up, Cabe?"

"Well. I just thought I'd say, since I know that you guys are privy to my…concerns about me and Allie," he said, "and so I felt it was only fair to give you an update. We're doing couples counselling. Nothing is wrong, we just want to stay ahead of any little issues so they don't become major problems down the road."

"Like Allie says, no use in busting out the epoxy when you've got a shatter on your hands," Toby commented.

"Exactly," Cabe said. Then he frowned again. "Wait, how did you know she said that?"

Paige gave Walter a nudge. "Hey, can I talk to you while Toby tries to worm his way out of what was probably eavesdropping?"

"Of course." He nodded, smiling and touching her elbow as they moved out of earshot. "What's the matter?"

"It's Ralph."

"Is he okay?"

Paige sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I…I think he's hiding something."

Walter cocked his head. "What do you think he's hiding?"

"I don't know. But the other day he asked me for money for the movies, and I asked him what movie he was going to see. He told me and he left."

"What – "

"The movie was rated R, Walter. He's fourteen."

Her words sunk in, slowly. "He wasn't going to the movies."

"Nope." Paige bit her lip, wringing her hands. "So what do I do? Confront him? Slowly guilt it out of him? Pretend like nothing is wrong and just trust him? I have  _no idea_  what to do."

"There's another option."

"What's that?"

Walter ran a finger along her jaw. "I could talk to him."

"Walter – "

"I'm serious."

"I'm his mother."

"And I'm going to be married to his mother." Walter shrugged. "I might be able to get through to him. It's been a while since I've had to translate him for you. But I think we both knew that it was going to happen again."

"You think this is a genius thing?"

"I don't know. But it might be. And I'm more than happy to ty and find out."

Paige smiled. "Thanks." She closed her eyes, stepping closer, and Walter put his arms around her. "God, what if he's getting involved with drugs?"

"Ralph is way too fixated on school performance to get involved with drugs."

"We both know that isn't that simple."

"I don't think he's involved with drugs, Paige."

"Maybe not for the sake of getting a high. But what about the ones that keep you awake so you can study more? What about the ones people take to function better at school? Life was stressful for him this past year. What if he's – "

"Paige."

"I know." She sighed. "I know I'm being overdramatic."

"I don't think you're being overdramatic." He put a hand up, cradling the back of her head. "I'm sure my parents were always worrying about me when I was a kid."

"You were hacking the United States government."

"Details, details." Walter smiled when he felt her laugh.


	18. Chapter 18

"Is something wrong?"

Walter looked over at Ralph. "Why?"

"You're acting weird."

He wasn't acting weird. He was reading an article on his phone, sitting in the chair in the Dineen living room. Ralph was sitting adjacent to him on the couch on his laptop. This was a very, very normal afternoon. "How am I acting weird?"

"I don't know." Ralph shifted his weight. "Your…well, it seems tense. When is Mom getting home?"

"She had to make some calls to clients from the phone in the garage. She'll be home in a bit."

"Walter, I can tell that you want to say something, and I can tell that she left us together on purpose. What's the matter?"

Walter set his phone on the table. "I actually did want to talk to you about something."

Ralph shrugged. "Okay. Is something wrong? Is it Mom?"

Walter shook his head. "No. I mean, yes. I mean, nothing is wrong with her. But this does have to do with her."

"It's barely February, so I know this isn't about her birthday."

"No." Walter put his hands together. "The movie you told her you went to see a few days ago is rated R. You're fourteen. We know you didn't go to the movies."

Ralph was silent for a moment, unmoving, and then he sighed. "Dammit."

"Language."

"It's not like I said – "

"Ralph."

His shoulders sagged. "Sorry. Look, I just didn't want to tell her where I was really going."

"That seems to usually be the motivation for lying about your whereabouts, yes." Walter folded his arms. "Look, she just worries about you. And since so much of everything that has happened between her and I has to do with being open with each other, I just think it's important for your relationship with her, too."

Ralph lifted a foot, lightly banging the heel of his shoe against the toe of his other one. "Okay. So you know my friend Brianna, right?"

"I've heard her mentioned."

"So she apparently has an…interesting…family life. They're not close at all. No ride – or – die situations. Her dad lost his job, her mom is angry about it, they will be struggling if he doesn't get a new one soon and so I had told her about when Mom was a waitress and how she had to give up so much for me, thinking it would make her feel better because, you know, I can relate and all that. But she just started crying. Her family isn't like that. They're all very selfish people. So I felt bad, the rest of our friends felt bad, and we took her to San Diego for the day to get her mind off everything. Sable's sister drove us. I knew I would have to leave before you guys got occupied and I needed a little money, so I had to account for that. So I said we were going to a movie. Apparently I didn't put enough thought into the lie."

"You thought a movie was a good enough cover story for a trip to another city that's two hours away?"

"Did either of you question what time I got home? I beat you guys back here."

"True." Walter's foot was bouncing, making his knee jump. "I don't think your mom would like you going to San Diego without an adult."

"You're really zeroing in on why I didn't tell her. And Sable's sister is seventeen. She's almost an adult."

"Seventeen year olds don't know jack."

"She wasn't giving relationship advice, Walter, she was driving a car."

"Just don't lie to your mother anymore. Can we both agree to do that? Or to…not do that?"

"I was just trying to be there for her. We all know what it's like to go through stuff."

"And you're drawn to people who need help. I know. I am, too. And sometimes it's hard to tell what part of that is good and what part of that is a fatal flaw. But your mom is a loving, caring person, too. If you tell her you're helping a friend get through hard times, she might be more lenient." He cocked his head. "Unless there's something more to this?"

"What more could there be?"

Walter shrugged. "You seem to have gotten over Patty."

"That was almost a year ago. I'm not dating Brianna."

"Do you want to?"

"She's nice. And funny, and sweet. But for now, that's it."

Walter nodded. "I'd like to meet her."

"Stop it."

"What? I'm just saying."

Ralph shrugged, looking back at his laptop. "I'm sure you will at some point."

* * *

Paige couldn't think of anyone else to call, so she hoped that Walter had already spoken to Ralph. He could take a while to get to the point sometimes. She'd told him not to text her unless it was serious, so providing they  _had_  already had the conversation, her son wasn't doing drugs. That was a relief.

Paige jumped when the garage's door opened a split second before she put her hand on the knob. "Oh!"

"Oh!" Echoed Florence, looking just as surprised.

"Hey. I'm the only one here," Paige said. "Who were you looking for?"

"You, actually," Florence said. "I saw your car. I have a hypothetical scenario I'd like to run by you, if that's alright."

Paige felt suddenly apprehensive. "Is this a science thing?"

"It's not," Florence said. "I've come to you because I believe you're the best equipped to give me an answer."

"Oh. Okay, then. Sure." She nodded. "Come in." She dropped her purse back down. "What's…what's going on, Florence?"

"Firstly, I need you to promise me you won't take my question and try to figure out why I'm asking it. Because you probably won't be able to and I don't want you to make assumptions and start rumors. I – I don't mean that in an accusatory way. But you know how things fly around here."

Paige cocked her head. "Uh huh." When she was met with silence, she realized Florence was still waiting for an answer. "Yes. I promise."

"Plus, if you try to figure out why I'm asking, that might skew your answer."

"What is it, Florence?"

"Ah. I've upset you. I apologize." She shifted her weight. "So. From what I understand, Toby proposed to Happy. Then she thought she was pregnant. That's correct?"

"Uh, well…" Paige shook her head, deciding to wait and see what Florence was going to ask before unloading all  _those_  details. "Yes."

"So the proposal happened before he knew of the supposed pregnancy."

"That's correct."

"Okay. So…" Florence sat down in the rolling chair. "Say…say Toby already had the ring. But Happy told him she was pregnant first. Then he proposed sometime afterward. Do you think that Happy would have thought that he was asking her to marry him  _because_  they thought they were having a baby? And do you think Toby would have wished he would have proposed sooner, so she wouldn't think that?"

Paige bit the inside of her cheek.

"Don't try and figure out why I'm asking!" Florence said.

"I'm not," Paige said, "I'm just thinking about how to answer," wanting to add  _don't be so defensive_  but deciding against it. Florence was right – if she  _did_ try to answer based on whatever she could come up with as a reason for the inquiry, she could give biased advice. It was incredible how much Florence thought like Walter.

"I don't think Happy would have thought he was just proposing because he thought she was pregnant, unless his first response to that news was dropping to his knee. But context is important, and she knew he loved her, so I think she would know he was coming from a good place with it. As for Toby, I don't think he would have wished he'd have proposed sooner, at least not from that perspective. He would have loved to have married her years before he did, sure, but I don't think he would have been like 'drat, I should have proposed before this announcement' because they didn't actually end up getting engaged until after."

Florence nodded. "I see."

"Is everything okay?" It wasn't as if Paige could think of any reason she would ask this question where something was wrong, but she also really couldn't, if she was honest with herself, think of why Florence was asking this. It wasn't like she and Sylvester were actively planning on getting married. Perhaps it was her recent engagement to Walter.

"Yes." Florence said quickly. "I have to get back to…work. But I appreciate your insight."

"Yeah…no problem," Paige said. "You're sure you're okay?" Something occurred to her. "Does this have anything to do with you and Happy having problems?"

Florence gave a short laugh. "I don't think even self – sacrifice could endear me to her at this point. I'm refusing to let it bother me. And I'm kinda sorta mostly succeeding. No. Nothing to do with her. I'd rather not talk about it if that's alright with you."

"Sure, sure. I hope I helped."

"You did." Florence nodded. "Really. I don't want to give details, but you did. You helped a lot."


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place on Valentine's Day 2019. It was supposed to be up on that day, but I spent the week in California and I woke up sick on Thursday, so between sleeping that off and my flight home publishing got delayed.
> 
> Chapter nineteen is the last chapter of part two (or three, depending on if you're going by publish date or not) of my Afterward series. There will be one more. It will take place after the events of A Conflict of Parallels, so if you haven't started that or haven't finished that, I would do so if you plan to read Part Four. It is partially written, but it deals with some topics that are difficult to write about (no one dies, happy ending, I promise) so I can't say when I will start publishing it. But look out for it if you're still around. Thanks to everyone who is still reading and reviewing. I hope you're enjoying my version of this show's future even a little bit as much as I am writing it all.

It was raining. Some considered that romantic. Others felt uneasy, as if precipitation really did forecast (ha) the onset of bad luck.

Paige just viewed it as an inconvenience, especially since they had plans to walk to dinner. Thankfully, Walter had brought an umbrella to work that day. He was quite pleased with his foresight. Paige found that weirdly attractive.

"I apologize for the somewhat cliché plans," Walter said. "But I know how much you love checking out new restaurants, and this one has very nice reviews."

"Toby and Happy's plan is to revisit their historically inaccurate role play," Paige said. "Toby told me this quite delightedly before they left. I am down for a nice dinner knowing that was a potential alternative."

"Ah yes," Walter said. "He gave me a briefing of their plans as well. Right down to how they're out of condoms but don't technically need them, so and I quote 'we're just gonna go for it like a couple of reckless kids'."

"Watch her actually get pregnant," Paige said with a laugh. She touched his hand. "The adoption of Tad will be finalized soon. I haven't asked how that's making you feel."

"I suppose I haven't allowed myself to think about how I feel about it," Walter replied. "It isn't a fun feeling. But you were right – what, what you said before. Even if we'd stayed together, he still would have been theirs. I was caught up in a fantasy that I projected onto him that stemmed from my desire to have children in general. With you."

"I would hope with me," she said, bumping her shoulder against his as they walked.

"I know it's too early to talk about it," he said. "I'm not asking you if you're keen on it."

"I am, though."

He looked at her. There was an eagerness in his eyes. "You are?"

"Yeah," she said. "I don't mean let's go home and 'go for it like a couple of reckless kids' or anything. But we're only in our early thirties. We have time. And if we decide to adopt, our age won't matter quite so much." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "You know I wanted more children."

"When Ralph was younger. I wasn't sure if that extended to now."

"I don't know if I knew that either, to be honest," she said, laughing quietly. "At least not until recently. But I do. I  _do_."

"Speak of 'I do'," Walter said, "let's get married first. Then talk about it more seriously."

"Yes. Decide which route we want to take. And then…"

"Go for it like a couple of reckless kids?"

"Sans the Marilyn Monroe and Sir Lancelot costumes our friends are breaking in tonight."

That got a laugh from Walter that Paige could only describe as hearty.

"Sir! Ma'am!" A teenage boy waved to them from the front of a shop, a broom in his other hand. "We have a special for Valentine's Day, on roses."

"Is this because it's Valentine's Day or because you're close to closing, it's raining, and you ordered too many?" Walter asked.

"Walter," Paige warned through her teeth.

The boy smiled. "All four, actually. My name is Joey, come on in."

"Your name tag says Scott," Walter said.

"Oh. Yeah. Funny story. So when I got here this morning – "

Paige watched as Walter's eyes glazed over, but to his credit, he did give a pro forma chuckle when Joey (turned out he was actually Joey) finished his tale, which was likely only funny if you were either Joey or Scott. At least, from the information at hand, it definitely was not funny to her or Walter.

Walter, who she was apparently starting to think like.

"Any big Valentine's Day plans tonight?" Paige asked. "Joey?"

"Nah. I don't really like Valentine's Day," he said. "I think you should love and appreciate your partner every day, and not just on some Hallmark holiday. This is an antique store. I don't know why we're selling roses today, but hey."

"That view is certainly one way to look at it," Walter said. "However, I have come to think that disdain for the holiday due to how you feel about your relationship isn't the best interpretation. Of course you love the person every day. But acting as if things are supposed to be happy and easy on twenty four seven basis is unrealistic and can lead people to believe that if their relationship isn't completely perfect all the time, that means something is fundamentally wrong. Paige and I have bad days. We fight. We disagree. That's part of being in a relationship. It's part of being  _human_. But when I spend Valentine's Day with her, it's a time to celebrate that we make it through things like that." He looked at her and smiled, handing her the rose he had selected. "Because we're worth it."

"Aw, Walter," she said, her eyes soft. She wrapped her arm around his. She found herself realizing that line of thought applied to their team, too. Not just Ralph. Not just any children they might have in the future. But everyone. Cabe, Allie, Happy, Toby, Tad, Sylvester, and Florence, too. And if she knew Walter as well as she thought she did, his words were meant to be about her and about the family they had created with the others.

"Of course," Walter added, turning back to Joey. "Your description of Valentine's Day as 'some Hallmark Holiday' implies part of your derision comes from a place of criticism for capitalism and how it encourages people to be material, and I think that is a valid concern."

* * *

Florence was angry at herself for inviting Sylvester to spend the night on Valentine's Day.

No, that was wrong. She was angry at herself for pumping herself up to have the conversation she wanted to have on Valentine's Day. Who knew how long she would lose her nerve for if she didn't go through with it now.

But it was either do it now or wait. Toby and Happy had headed off over two hour ago, meaning they were likely already engrossed in their weird actress/knight story. Paige and Walter would be well through their dinner already. Cabe and Allie, given the hour, were probably asleep.

Which left Scorpion's newest power couple. It had been a long day, especially for her and Sly, as the case they were working on was much heavier in numbers and chemistry than any of the others' primary skillsets. She was bushed. Despite the likely intimate activities of the other couples, Florence had little interest in an encore of her and Sylvester's previous foray into a sex life tonight and she was getting strong vibes from her boyfriend that said encore was close to the last thing on his mind.

Although the idea of actually doing stuff in a bed was appealing. Perhaps tomorrow, if they slept well tonight.

Of course, she wasn't going to sleep at all if she didn't just get out what she needed to tell him.

"Valentine's Day is quite interesting, isn't it?" Sylvester asked. He'd gotten her flowers. They were pretty. "Considering the brutal fate of the saint the holiday is named after."

"There were actually three Saint Valentines who were martyred, perhaps even more. The history of it is quite interesting, if you're into that sort of thing. Which I'm really not. But I recognize the validity of it as a research topic for others."

"I didn't know there were that many," Sylvester said."

"Yeah." Florence wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. The cast of Monty Python and the Holy Grail screamed at her in her head.  _Get on with it._ "So anyway. I realize…I didn't realize it was Valentine's Day. I mean, I  _did_  but I didn't realize…I had pumped myself up to talk to you and now I'm thinking today is a bad day to do it, but at the same time…"

"Hey." He sat down on the bed, his body language relaxed. Welcoming. It put her at ease, if only slightly. "Talk to me."

"So. I've been conflicted about something over the past few days."

He cocked his head. "Yeah? About what?"

Florence wrung her hands. "So…Megan. Your wife. You and her had this really…special relationship."

"Yes…" Sylvester's expression made it clear he was trying to jump ahead, to figure out where this was leading, and he was having no luck.

"And you've said you have no regrets with her. And I wish I could say the same thing, about us, but I don't know, I can't identify if I do or not, because I'm still not entirely sure…"

"Florence?"

"Uh. Yeah?"

"I have anxiety. If you're going to break up with me, please just say so."

Florence gave an exasperated sigh. "I'm  _not_  going to break up with you. I love you."

When Sylvester's expression changed from stressed to surprised, she realized what had spilled out. "I – I mean…" She cleared her throat. "I mean, that's not…that  _is_  what I wanted to say, but I didn't want to say it like that. That was…" She felt her face growing hot. "I messed that up. Can I start over?"

Sylvester reached out and took both of her hands, pulling her closer. She stepped between his knees. "You love me?"

She fought the urge to raise her chin, square her shoulders, deflect and brush this off. "Yes."

"And that…makes you conflicted?"

She shook her head. "No. No, I know it. I know it for sure. I love you, Sylvester."

Florence could hear the cautiousness in his voice when he asked, "then what…are you concerned about?"

She let out a long, slow breath, wanting to make sure she could get it out without her voice cracking. "It concerns me that you might think that I only said it because we slept together. That that encounter led me to elevated feelings, or that I feel you can't love someone unless you've been intimate in that way. Neither are true. I had these feelings before that. I almost voiced them several times. After we had sex, I started feeling like I had waited too long to tell you, and then I started thinking about how you never had a physical relationship with your wife, and then…"

"Lori." He squeezed her hands, looking up – an interesting thing for him to do given their height difference when standing – into her eyes. "I will always love Megan. But she was my first everything else. Please don't think that I'm not glad that this first was with you. Because I'm in love with you, too."

"I know. And that makes me…so very happy." She wrinkled her nose. "Though I hate the cliché of saying it for the first time on Valentine's Day."

"Well, I love hearing it," he said with a smile. "No matter the date."

She let go of his hands, sliding hers up to cup his face. "I love you."

"I love you, too."


End file.
